cryptsleeper: (he smile!!!!)
Alucard \\ Adrian F. Ţepeş ([personal profile] cryptsleeper) wrote in [community profile] abraxaslogs2022-02-27 06:04 pm

[closed] | One evening in the spring

Who: Alucard and Gideon
When: End of the month following the summit
What: Cheesecake and bs'ing
Where: A small public speaking hall, Cadens
Warnings: None!


Made cheesecake from the goat cheese I got at the summit. Meet me here if you want any.

[There's directions that follow, and the lead to a small public speaking hall in a part of Cadens that is fairly central, all things considered. There are certainly more buildings here than the places Alucard usually lurks besides his little graveyard home.

The building looks just about as out of place. Whereas so much of Cadens is new, new, new, gleaming and bright or else not so clean but clearly recently built. This place isn't quite the same. There's too many elements of Thorne in the façade. Even the script that reads SPEAKING HALL is too old fashioned.

Inside is no different. The ceiling is vaulted, with a second floor gallery along with a first floor and a dais where a podium stands. There's stained glass that has clearly been replaced - colored windows with plain ones, designs difficult to make sense of now. Still, light comes in, and at the front besides the dais are stacks of books along with a few large sheets of paper. Alucard's standing looking down at one, arms over his chest as he reviews what's there.

When the door opens, he looks up and offers a bright:]
Ah, hello.

[The sound travels. He might as well be next to the door with that level of clarity.]
frontlinetitties: please do not take (pic#14843287)

[personal profile] frontlinetitties 2022-02-28 05:48 pm (UTC)(link)
You had me at cake.

[Is the response he gets before she sets off toward the directed location. She's tried a fair number of desserts since arriving here, but a cake made from cheese isn't one of them. Not entirely convinced that it sounds palatable, she's nonetheless intrigued as she pushes the large wooden door open - still vaguely shocking to see such wanton use of real wood! -and steps into the cool and echoey space.

Alucard's voice rings out to her like a clear bell, and she looks momentarily startled as she spies him across the room from her.]


Fuck me, those are some acoustics.

[She says, and then laughs as her own voice carries with the same perfect clarity, her profanity ringing bright and lucent through the vast space. The door falls closed behind her with a heavy thud, and she strides across to the dais to greet him properly.]

Is it rude if I ask about the cake before I ask what's up with this place? Oops! Too late, I guess.
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[personal profile] frontlinetitties 2022-03-03 08:58 am (UTC)(link)
Illicit indulgences! Now we're talking.

[She slants him a crooked grin as the wine makes an appearances; never mind that it isn't quite so illicit here as it had been back on the Ninth. The only alcohol in that crumbling ruin of a place was reserved for ritual purposes, and tasted like piss and vinegar besides. She should know-- having pilfered some once, and made herself gloriously sick from it.

She moves closer to get a good look at the cake-- which is not at all as she imagined. Yeah, there's a faint whiff of goat about it, but there's also the sweet warmth of the honey, the delicious aroma of the toasted almonds. If she'd been aware that food could be an utter delight rather than a necessary evil to fuel one's body she'd have doubled her attempts to flee to the Cohort years ago.

Alucard is, of course, correct. She's reaching to take what she perceives to be the largest of the quatres almost before he's finished cutting it.]


Fuck, this looks good. Did you make it?
Edited 2022-03-03 09:39 (UTC)
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[personal profile] frontlinetitties 2022-03-03 04:51 pm (UTC)(link)
[She totally wasn't just going to use her hand to eat cheesecake. Absolutely not, and you can't prove otherwise. But once he's done faffing around with utensils that are completely necessary and decorous, she's quick to sweep in. The wine can wait - enticed as she is by this delicacy too - and she has devoured half of her slab of cake before he's even made a start on his. it's fine-- cheese has protein, she'll turn it all to muscle later with a thorough workout.]

Fuuuuck. Mmmnn. So good.

[Comes her pronouncement between mouthfuls, eyes briefly closing as the sweet, rich taste floods her senses.]

Who knew you could make dessert from cheese? I fucking love dessert.

[It has been a secret mission of hers to try every dessert possible since arriving here and discovering that there's such a wide array of them. The distinct lack of dessert on the Ninth ought to be considered some sort of crime. Do excuse her if every other sensible thought vacates her head, for a moment.]
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[personal profile] frontlinetitties 2022-03-04 07:55 pm (UTC)(link)
[Tempting as it is to ignore him and just carry on eating, she has to grudgingly admit that he's a fancy kind of guy, that he probably knows what he's talking about. really, the effort feels wasted on her but she obliges him nonetheless. Pauses in her feasting to take a sip - a sip, not a swig, she's trying to show some decorum here. Maybe - and the bright taste of fruit bursts over her tongue. It's a soft, clean, refreshing kind of taste, a whole world away from the nasty vinegar wine back on the Ninth, or the cheap ale she tends to go for in the local taverns. This stuff is nice, and it shows in the soft mmm sound she makes. And--]

Yeah, okay. You've got a point there. This is the good shit, right here.
Edited (let me get this the right way around, ahah) 2022-03-04 19:58 (UTC)
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[personal profile] frontlinetitties 2022-03-04 08:42 pm (UTC)(link)
At least you know your way around a kitchen. Fuck if either me or Harrow do. But she's a weirdo who likes tepid water and tasteless gruel.

[To which she makes a face-- it's frankly offensive, how little interest Harrow has shown in the wealth of local delicacies available (excluding the shitty meal in a can experience). But that's necros for you-- all that time drooling over bones seems to leave them with little desire for sustenance.

Having been given something akin to permission, she takes a deeper swig of the wine between mouthfuls of cake, and her eyes flutter briefly closed. SO damned good.]


Harrow would shit the bed if she heard you call us partners, by the way. It sounds too much like equals, and she's the Reverend Daughter of the Ninth House. I can just see the slapped-ass face she'd make if you said that to her.

[Apparently its a mental image that amuses her, because she laughs, even if she does feel a touch conflicted. Things have shifted with them, are still shifting, since Canaan House and Gideon's noble (foolish?) sacrifice. How she feels about Harrow, how Harrow feels about her...it's getting harder to define (or perhaps deny) all the time.]

But we are paired, I guess. I'm her cav, she's my necro. One flesh, one end. Which sounds a hell of a lot dirtier and much less sinister than it actually is. I know, I know-- [She holds up a hand as though to cut him off from rushing in with the kind of thoughts he likely isn't</> having.] -- I was disappointed, too.
frontlinetitties: please do not take (pic#14912110)

spoilers ahead...

[personal profile] frontlinetitties 2022-03-05 08:20 am (UTC)(link)
[She considers the offer-- it's not the kind of thing she imagines she has any patience for, but he did use the word 'basic' which is akin to 'easy', right? Maybe she could manage easy.]

I can't promise to be an astute or attentive student, but sure. It'd be handy. And look, don't sweat it-- I fucking lived in that place and it's hard not to get titles and shit mixed up. A lot of the top brass have like, three different titles each. That shit gets confusing even for people in the know.

[And she isn't exactly known for paying attention to 'boring political' interests that stand too far outside of her own. A lot of what she does know comes from accidental osmosis rather than wilful attempts to understand.

She takes another long sip of wine, though, and there's a blank space that feels somehow replete with meaning as she thinks about how to answer his question. How much she ought to say. It's not like it's some big secret-- but it leads onto more questions. The kinds of questions she has yet to have to answer, or explain.

She takes a breath, though. Go time. But of course, she starts it off light.]


Man, what is up with people missing the innuendo here. Familiar spirits and spellcasters is really the first thing you thought of when I said one flesh, one end?

[She grins, and makes a rather lewd jerking motion with her free hand.]

But okay, okay. I'm gonna take it to mean that in your suggestion, the spellcaster is like, the necro, the one with all the uncanny power but who is also a total weakling in a physical fight. Then you've got your familiar, who's there for physical protection, and she'll have your back whilst you're busy flinging skeletons around. Whiiich, I realise has strayed pretty far from analogy now, hasn't it. But yeah, the necro does the magic, the cav has her back and cuts down foes so she can do her thing in battle. One flesh, one end is like, what a cav and a necro pledge to one another when it's decided they'll be paired up, right? And I guess we thought it meant something like, have each other's backs until the bitter end. Go down together, kind of thing, right?

[She looks at him, and then she makes a rude noise with her mouth, makes an abrupt thumbs-down gesture.]

Wrong. Turns out, what it really means - the ancient meaning - is that the cav has gotta die and be absorbed by the necro, to turn them into a lyctor...which is kind of a saint, like a holy warrior who has all the skills of the necro and the cav. So hey, I got my wish and had Harrow eat me after all.
frontlinetitties: please do not take (pic#14912109)

definitely a bad time :(

[personal profile] frontlinetitties 2022-03-06 05:50 pm (UTC)(link)
[She recalls his tale of betrayal with crystalline accuracy, and can't say she particularly blames him for thinking of things in quite the way she does. And she sees his sour look, watches it roll all the way around to curdled, and despite the fact that they're here right now, sharing cake and wine, telling each other their shitty secrets-- it still comes as a little shock to realise anyone would care about what happened to her.

You can blame her abysmal upbringing for that.

Nonetheless, she's waving his concern away with a casual roll of a shoulder, the shake of her head. The choice had been hers. She'd do it again and again, in a hot heartbeat, if meant Harrow got to live.]


What the fuck is about right. Harrow and ol' Sex Pal-- [That's Palamedes Sextus, Master Warden of the Library, Heir to the Sixth House to anyone less purile] --worked it out, I think, near the end. But we were all pretty fucked the moment we arrived on that mausoleum of a planet because of the ancient asswipe who sneaked in with us, so it didn't matter that neither of them would have gone through with it. And you know, I think they actually could have cracked it. How to complete the Lyctoral process without anyone having to die, perfected the megatheorum whatsit, or whatever. There's no way in Hell Palamedes would ever have cannibalised Cam, and Harrow...alright, so we were at each other's throats for our entire lives, but she absolutely did not want me dead. We were backed into a really tight spot though, and wouldn't it be better if some of us made it out of there alive, rather than none of us?

[It's the way she'd seen it, anyway. Someone needed to be left standing to beat that skanky old hag's ass. It takes a Lyctor to beat a Lyctor. She shrugs again, and takes another swig of wine.]

Sorry, I'm just spewing words at you now. It probably doesn't make a lot of sense. But it's better to think about the here and now anyway, right? Like, what is this place, and why did you invite me here specifically?

[It isn’t a subtle attempt to change the subject, but perhaps she just wants to see his expression brighten again.]
frontlinetitties: please do not take (pic#14843287)

she'd be so touched ;;

[personal profile] frontlinetitties 2022-03-07 09:33 am (UTC)(link)
It's a loooong story, involving dark and terrible secrets, horrible sins, bad decisions, and a missive from God. That fucking bastard.

[He'd asked it of them after all, knowing what it meant. Knowing what they'd have to do. She's not entirely sure he's deserving of the Kindly Prince moniker after all, and if one really stops to think about it...is a God who deals so explicitly in necromancy really a great guy? But this are tricky, convoluted thoughts, thoughts that are only now occurring her after the happenings at Canaan House and the revelation that other planets in other systems aren't quite so steeped in a culture of death and bones.

She drains the rest of her glass in tandem with him, before shovelling another hefty forkful of cake into her mouth. These are heavy matters, but cake makes everything better. On to more current, hopefully cheerier, things--]


Huh. Kiiinda ties in with what you said about hidden mysticism, in a way. Like, what made the Free Cities branch off in such a divergent direction if it used to be big on magic, too? I hadn't really thought about it much before.

[She holds her wine glass out hopefully, already craving more.]

And this place is definitely a more cheerful hangout than the cemetery. Are you gonna use it for something when you're done? Other than hanging out and drinking wine with me, which to be fair is a top reason for doing it.
frontlinetitties: please do not take (pic#14843288)

And he's one of the first friends she's ever made!

[personal profile] frontlinetitties 2022-03-07 05:59 pm (UTC)(link)
[She doesn't disagree-- sure, things had been pretty fucked before Harrow had received the invitation to Canaan House and the attainment of Lyctorhood, but they sure as hell had got a lot worse after. Well, more complicated at any rate.

But she's here now, eating cake and drinking wine with someone who evidently wants to spend time with her, so it's easy enough to push the horrors of Canaan House into the background of her thoughts. It's the way of things maybe, when one is so accustomed to the otherwise objectively horrible-- you make room for it, you learn to accommodate it within yourself.

So she ditches the dramatics and focuses on the hear and now-- him and her, the cool press of the glass in her hand, the slowly dimming light outside that falls over them in soft shafts through the large and ornate windows. The conversation.]


Jaskier, the bard guy? He promised me my own theme song.

[She says, glancing about the partially derelict hall.]

This seems like as good a place as any to sing all about my incredible exploits and the sheer magnitude of my biceps.

[She flashes him a grin.]

And you're probably right. Having been brought up by a bunch of shitty old nuns and hating every moment of it, I'd say I'm about as far away from pious as it's possible to get. I try my best anyway. And the tech here is...weird. Like most of it is light years behind the tech we have back home, but it also feels more widespread? In Cadens, anyway. Not everyone has access to space shuttles and stuff, and Drearburh was always on the verge of running out of the things we needed. We didn't have access to stuff like baby vats and the like, which made things trickier...but then, we were a weird reclusive colony of shadow cultists living on the fringe of the Dominicus system--

[She shakes her head-- an irrelevant tangent.]

But yeah, I guess what I'm saying is, why not both? Why one over the other?
frontlinetitties: please do not take (pic#14912113)

it's gotta be all the skulls

[personal profile] frontlinetitties 2022-03-08 07:14 pm (UTC)(link)
[The comment about her biceps has her flashing a grin, crooked and pleased, and she winks-- it's precisely the kind of attention she'd been hoping a theme song might garner. There's a brief moment where her eyes go distant whilst the smile remains, both wine and cake temporarily forgotten as she indulges in a flight of girlish fancy. Girlish, in that it involves a small crowd of buxom young local women gathered about her, asking her to flex. One of them leans in close, lashes lowered over limpid eyes, and whispers-- your biceps, they're eleven out of ten.

But soon he's asking his startled question, and there's no more time for daydreaming. Sad times.]


Yeah...is that weird? Hardly anyone does it the vintage way anymore. And honestly, why the fuck would you want to? Man, I've heard some horror stories about biological childbirth, no fucking thank you. Most places just grow 'em in an incubator, you know? Safer and waaay less gory. Not Drearburh though. We don't have access to that kinda tech.
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Re: that checks out

[personal profile] frontlinetitties 2022-03-15 09:05 am (UTC)(link)
[She would be deeply flattered, regardless, but he mentions ancient nuns and it has her making a revolted face, accompanied by exaggerated gagging noises.]

Ugh. Ewww. I did not need that idea put into my head. Totally gross and bad.

[She sticks out her tongue and mimes vomiting at the mere suggestion of it.]

But luckily I don't have an answer for that. Harrow was the last kid born in the Ninth House, and that was eighteen years ago.

[But she's edging too close to a dark, sick truth that isn't entirely hers to tell, even if she is caught up in it. Time to change track--]

That's enough about babies, though. I imagine they're really fucking boring. If you wanted to know more about the science, I expect Harrow would know. She's the brains of this two woman show. I'm the beauty, which goes without saying.
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[personal profile] frontlinetitties 2022-03-15 12:55 pm (UTC)(link)
[Mystery hybrid baby snags at her attention and if she was from a later canon point they'd have so much to talk about, but really, the less babies the better and so she just makes a rude sound, rolls her eyes expansively in response to the Harrow comment.]

The Locked Tomb is all about dark, shady and secretive. I've known the Midnight Haggette for our entire fucking lives and there's shit I'm only just learning about. So yeah, on second thoughts, maybe don't bother.

[And really, there are more interesting things they could be discussing. Like swords. Swords are good.]

But you should see us when shit hits the fan. We fight together like a fucking dream.
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[personal profile] frontlinetitties 2022-03-16 04:49 pm (UTC)(link)
[Even Gideon would have to admit he was a cute baby if she could see that.]

I mean, it's not one of my best, but even I have off days, you know? No swamp. Just bones, and creepy-ass catacombs, and monastic cells, and a shitty old library full of boring old books and dust that I'm technically banned from entering, but I sneaked in one time anyway only to find it wasn't a place I had any interest in frequenting, so there.

[What can you really learn from books that you can't learn from, you know, actually doing shit with your body anyway? Although she supposes she has to admit her stash of dirty mags have been very enlightening, on occasion.]

Yes to more wine, though. And it's kinda hard to tell it, it's more something you've gotta see. Obviously I'm a hot badass with a sword, and Harrow is the best damned necro the Ninth House has ever produced. She's all about scale and accuracy and amount of constructs, you know? Like, she can raise a whole army just from chips of bone. But together it's like...I dunno. I guess because we fought with and around each other our entire lives. Like I know what she's gonna try before she tries it, I know where her openings are gonna be, where to move without her having to say jack shit. I'd have laughed in your face if you'd said it to me even a year before now, but it's like we were meant to be necro and cav all along.

[There's an odd feeling in her chest when she says it, an unaccustomed tightness, something bright and hot and sharp. Because perhaps there was a time when she had genuinely hated Harrow, but even their rivalry had meant gaining her undivided attention. She clears her throat, shuffles one foot against the floorboards.]

So yeah. No turning into bats or anything. We just...fit together, I guess.

[And to cover for any embarrassment she feels in talking so honestly about this shit, she waggles her eyebrows lasciviously and makes jerk-off gestures with the hand not holding her glass.]

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