The Medicine Seller (
kinko) wrote in
abraxaslogs2021-12-10 12:26 am
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Curiosity Killed the Cat [OPEN]
WHO: The Medicine Seller and anyone in Cadens.
WHAT: He's good and rested, and now it's time to get into reestablishing business as usual, exploration, acclimation, and bothering people.
WHEN: Throughout December.
WARNINGS: None for now!
[Hall of Natural Relics/Museum of Medicine]
[He'd headed for the Hall of Natural Relics first. More really as a precaution, just to see precisely what 'natural relics' might exactly entail here. ... Nothing too surprising, as it turned out. A natural history museum and, for the moment at least, little more than that. He'd show some particular interest in the preserved plants, and even more for whatever oddities that were on display, milling about those for far longer, but eventually his attention would wander elsewhere.
The Museum of Medicine would particularly captivate him, with no small amount of questions posed in regards to almost every exhibit on display. Once more however, his attention would zero in upon specifics: some rather direct and probing questions centered squarely around more gruesome matters; histories of unethical practices, past and present superstitions regarding illnesses, and less than pleasant natural cures. He didn't seem particularly shy about asking them either, though a respectful, neutral, almost coldly clinical tone was steadfastly maintained. Though that might have done very little to reduce the intensity of the questions themselves.]
[Tavern]
[Though the outfit he wore now was far plainer than what he'd normally have, that might not make him stand out any less. At least all that wild hair had been bound back and pinned up again, though there was really no fully taming it; flax colored curls and locks still finding a way to slip out here and there. He'd really have to get a proper bandanna back later... Nothing to be done, nor would be done ever, about the markings on his face though, and he made no effort at all to conceal them. Nor would anything be done about those long and pointed ears, apparently his method of working around his appearance was just plain and blunt apathy.
He'd arrived at the noisiest hour, at this particular tavern's absolute fullest, making pains to seek out a table that might give him a full and mostly uninterrupted view of the area. If it was empty? Well he'd just settle down then, no drink, no food, no attempt to blend in or look subtle. And if it was occupied? Well things became a bit more complicated, because he wasn't keen on finding a different spot. Rather, the occupant would find themselves no longer alone over here, the presence of the Medicine Seller pointedly... difficult to ignore, as he paused by the table.]
Excuse me... You aren't waiting for anyone, are you? [The tone just loud enough to be audible over the din, but otherwise soft, almost monotone in its sound.]
WHAT: He's good and rested, and now it's time to get into reestablishing business as usual, exploration, acclimation, and bothering people.
WHEN: Throughout December.
WARNINGS: None for now!
[Hall of Natural Relics/Museum of Medicine]
[He'd headed for the Hall of Natural Relics first. More really as a precaution, just to see precisely what 'natural relics' might exactly entail here. ... Nothing too surprising, as it turned out. A natural history museum and, for the moment at least, little more than that. He'd show some particular interest in the preserved plants, and even more for whatever oddities that were on display, milling about those for far longer, but eventually his attention would wander elsewhere.
The Museum of Medicine would particularly captivate him, with no small amount of questions posed in regards to almost every exhibit on display. Once more however, his attention would zero in upon specifics: some rather direct and probing questions centered squarely around more gruesome matters; histories of unethical practices, past and present superstitions regarding illnesses, and less than pleasant natural cures. He didn't seem particularly shy about asking them either, though a respectful, neutral, almost coldly clinical tone was steadfastly maintained. Though that might have done very little to reduce the intensity of the questions themselves.]
[Tavern]
[Though the outfit he wore now was far plainer than what he'd normally have, that might not make him stand out any less. At least all that wild hair had been bound back and pinned up again, though there was really no fully taming it; flax colored curls and locks still finding a way to slip out here and there. He'd really have to get a proper bandanna back later... Nothing to be done, nor would be done ever, about the markings on his face though, and he made no effort at all to conceal them. Nor would anything be done about those long and pointed ears, apparently his method of working around his appearance was just plain and blunt apathy.
He'd arrived at the noisiest hour, at this particular tavern's absolute fullest, making pains to seek out a table that might give him a full and mostly uninterrupted view of the area. If it was empty? Well he'd just settle down then, no drink, no food, no attempt to blend in or look subtle. And if it was occupied? Well things became a bit more complicated, because he wasn't keen on finding a different spot. Rather, the occupant would find themselves no longer alone over here, the presence of the Medicine Seller pointedly... difficult to ignore, as he paused by the table.]
Excuse me... You aren't waiting for anyone, are you? [The tone just loud enough to be audible over the din, but otherwise soft, almost monotone in its sound.]
no subject
[No details, no elaboration. Botany can relate to so many things, after all.]
Anything of interest to you thus far?
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A few things, yes. It's in my best interest to familiarize myself with the local medical practices, after all. [Equally void in details, equally lacking in elaboration, but maintaining that same light if somewhat cool air of casual amiability. No doubt dampened some by that persistent, soft monotone, but regardless, there was no open sign of distrust.]
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[It is just enough information to hint at project, but no elaboration permitted whatsoever. Alucard shrugs, tucking his notes under his arms.]
I'm afraid I need to move past you in order to get to the exit.
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The behavior of moss is fairly similar, regardless of region. [Idly mentioned, no intention of forcing him to stay.] Should you change your mind and feel at ease to share, feel free to find me.
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[But Alucard will scoot a little bit ahead, nodding once as a polite thank you.]
OKAY IM HERE HERE I AM, did you want to have the Seller follow Alucard for some sad moss time then?
No, moss itself wasn't particularly interesting, Alucard was absolutely correct on that front. But it went without saying that it wasn't necessarily some deep abiding infatuation with moss that was driving him right now.
... He'd wait a little then, before he'd take a bit of a detour from his planned route.]
Sounds like a good plan let me just set that up!
Just vinegar. Enough for spot treatment, and what can be spared should he be a liar.
The graveyard gates are open. There are hours left in the day, and so Alucard heads north, to where the moss is at it's worst. The graveyard is not huge, and most of the stones remain in pieces. (Only those pieces are placed in front of the corresponding plot, with every intent to rebuild.) It is then he picks a small headstone that was undamaged by the events of October, and sits in front of it. To his left is a workspace he was wrangling the other day, and that means some brushes are available.
A little pour of vinegar to the stone. Then the scrubbing begins, the dhampir's attention focused on only the work in front of him.]
<3
To the graveyard, past the gates, through the burial grounds so clearly desecrated. He'd stop more than once to inspect them, his expression unreadable as he gently picked through the smaller of the broken stones, as if to search for a name.
Eventually, however, he'd arrive at his destination. And for a moment, he'd simply watch, as Alucard cleaned away the moss from one of the unbroken stones, just as silent as the graveyard they stood in... Until,]
Ah... So this is why.
[The tone soft, but just loud enough. Impossible to miss here, really, in the otherwise peaceful silence.]
no subject
The moss is coming off, but it takes time. He needs a sturdier brush, another angle, or both. He sighs, frowning at the work he's managed so far.
It'll do, and vinegar is cheap. On the ot--
His head whips around, and quickly, the dhampir gets to his feet.]
Did you follow me?
[There's concern in the tone. A faint undercurrent of panic.]
no subject
Forgive me, I was curious.
[A poor explanation, but the only one he'd be giving, and to be fair it was honest enough.] ... Vinegar will cause the stone to crumble. Simple soap and distilled water will preserve their names far better.
[Because indeed, that was a matter that for the moment, took some obvious importance here.]
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But he will accept help on some topics.]
The soap and water was not working well for this particular stone, unfortunately.
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[He did not address the obvious discomfort, aiming instead for the at least lukewarm acceptance of help.]
Oils too, will discolor it. Though it takes quite a while to do, the best method is but clean water, and gentle soap.
no subject
[Lukewarm acceptance only comes with an answer or two, so far as the dhampir is concerned. His body language does not shift to hostile - his arms are at his sides, only his eyebrows are raised, and what happens next is entirely predicated on getting a real response.]
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[The words chosen were firm, though the tone never did shift, just as soft as it'd been since he arrived.]
If nothing else, it is an act of respect, one that I take quite seriously. I am well acquainted with the act of cleaning the stones.
no subject
He moves to the right, so the Seller can take a better look at the problem.]
Take a look for yourself then. And mind not to move too far to the left, I'm working on that one at present.
no subject
It has been left for quite a long time... A sponge should do well... A natural one, it is just rough enough to work away the moss and dirt without damaging the stone itself. The whole stone should be doused in purified water and allowed to soak in first. ... Several times, perhaps.
It will take some time, to restore it to an acceptable state.
[No, no questions as to why precisely these stones mattered, no question as to what motivated the man, but rather a different one:]
What happened to the shattered stones?
sorry, cat wanted play time
The dhampir nods along quietly to show that he is listening, but he doesn't interject. He knows where there's a natural sponge (it just happens to be at the south end, near the hollowed out cactus he sleeps in these days), meaning the problem is the water.
He has an answer for the question, at least.]
At the end of October, there was some sort of backfire of magic that encouraged the dead to emerge from the graveyard and impede upon the realm of the living. All of the graveyards here suffered damage from the initial burst, so far as anyone has been able to tell.
Its okay! Not like it was a month ; w;
How did you put them to rest again? [The question contained a mixture of emotions behind it. None too subtle was the concern laced in with those words... but there too was ever still that genuine curiosity. This place after all, was not like home. And whatever method was used here, perhaps he ought learn for himself...]
What can you tell me of that backfire? The cause or source? [He stood up, moving back from the headstone to fix Alucard with his full attention once more.]
Still! I did not want you to think I outied without reason!
[The concern is impossible to ignore. It overlays the curiosity, and that's intersting.]
All I have heard is that the a ritual in Solvunn has been linked. That matter ventures into politics, and there is where my concern ends by choice. [He does not enter into politics. Alucard wants his privacy and something for his hands to work on. Hence, this.]
You'd have to ask elsewhere for more details. All I can say is that this is more worthy of my time.
<3333
Magic such as this has no place in politics. [An edge to that tone, one he saw no reason to blunt nor lessen. Still, after a moment and with Alucard's admittance that he had chosen to learn nothing else, the brunt of that ire passed.]
... The past cannot be fixed. But the stones can. [Agreement then, this was more worthy of time and effort now.] Is there a way to Solvunn from here? I will want to visit it later, if I can.
Re: <3333
[It is a terrible joke about vampires and their nature, but the Seller has no reason to know that. Alucard's heritage may be half undead, but he's had enough necromancy in his lifetime to think that there's ever a good reason to disturb the dead from their rest.
There are no benches here, and Alucard is in no position to offer a seat. All he can do is consider getting the sponge, and then coming back to do the work.]
I'm unsure of what the roads are like at the moment. There are places far beyond this city that I'd like to see before well and truly finding a place to settle, but uneasy borders make for difficult traveling. [To get to the land where supposedly all manner of night things roam, there is a need to cross the feywilds. Alucard does not know how possible any of that may be.]
If you don't mind waiting a few minutes, I can check my supply cache for the sponge.
no subject
Then I will ask around later. Even if there should be nothing there now of note... [Good to just establish a route between here and there, know where it was, just in case.]
Should you like, I could find the water to clean them. Less time spent in travel, more spent working on the stones themselves.
no subject
I would appreciate that, truly. [He pauses, eyes moving back towards the gate.]
How much time and water do you think you'd need?
no subject
Thankfully, once cleaned, so long as they are attended to yearly, they should never require so much ever again. Of course, for all the work we do today, these stones have been quite damaged. Try as you might, you will not be able to fully restore them without more in depth means, the pitting will remain as will traces of dirt, and stains.
gotta sleep, good night!
Alucard doesn't inquire further. He only nods, taking careful mental note.]
Better restorative work may lie in magic and spellcraft, but there's always time for research later. I would, however, welcome a survey of the rest of the stones that are still standing, if you're so inclined.
[It is only Alucard doing the work, after all, and he only knows so much.]
But after this?
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