Alucard \\ Adrian F. Ţepeş (
cryptsleeper) wrote in
abraxaslogs2022-02-27 06:04 pm
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Entry tags:
[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.]
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.]
no subject
[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.
no subject
[Okay you know what? He can be a nerd later, because cake is in fact much more important.
Offering a slightly smug grin, Alucard goes over to the podium and then crouches down. What he slides out from under there is not only a package wrapped in parchment paper, but a bottle of wine and two slightly worn looking glasses that look like they were probably hanging out in one of the hall's side room.]
I assumed you would, actually.
[There's no place to sit at the moment, and so Alucard parks himself down on the dais itself, away from his own study area. There's the crinkle of paper, and then the revelation of what is underneath.
The cheesecake itself features a burnished bronze top, not burnt but stark in contrast to the sides which are a softer, creamier color. There's a faint goaty smell to it, but there's notes of honey thanks to the drizzle of it atop the cake, along with toasted almonds that stick to the top.]
This is the cake. The wine should go well with it, but we'll see.
[He reaches into the pocket of his trousers, pulling out a tiny little switch blade knife. All the better for cutting cake - first in half, and then each half into quarters. It might be an assumption that Gideon's going to take a large chunk, but it feels a reasonable one.]
no subject
[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?
no subject
[Right, forks. Because cheesecake is not food for eating with one's hands, no matter how good the idea seems. Alucard leans over to reach behind the podium, and he pulls out a third glass that has a few sad, much used forks in it. That goes down with a gentle noise beside the cheesecake, and now goblin mode can well and truly engage.]
Have at.
[Or at least have at while he pours the wine. It's a white, not quite as sweet smelling as the cheesecake but with a distinct lingering smell of apricot and peach once it leaves the bottle. It is a much lighter, summery feeling than anything the city can offer right now, both as winter sloughs off and as whatever weird tensions from the summit remain heavy in the air.
Alucard's own cake slice is one sixth of the the cheesecake, rather than the full quarter. But he starts with the wine, careful to evaluate it.]
That is much better than I thought it'd be, all things considered.
no subject
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.]
no subject
oh, that did come out good.
There's a soft hum of approval for his own work before he chases it down with another sip of the wine. The pairing works, and okay, he's going to nudge Gideon's glass over.]
Take another bite, then a sip. Trust me.
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Yeah, okay. You've got a point there. This is the good shit, right here.
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[He isn't smug exactly, but Alucard looks all too pleased with himself for not only being right, but for getting all of this right.] It isn't as if the cactus I use for sleeping has a full kitchen, you know.
[As comfortable as the cactus is to sleep in when in wolf form, there are some draw backs. They just so happen to all be food related, and Alucard will readily admit to that particular failing.
And because knowing the company he's in, he takes this as an opportunity to lean against the podium and refill his own wine glass.]
You probably shouldn't chug it, but you don't have to be dainty with intake either.
[Are they going to just get drunk on wine and cheesecake? Probably.]
You're still here, so I see the goats didn't entirely win your partner over. [Actually he has no idea what the right terminology is for those two. Now's probably a fine time to ask.]
no subject
[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.
no subject
[Harrow is absolutely wrong about food and Alucard will pick that fight willingly and with great relish.]
I'd hope I would get some leeway being wholly ignorant of what sounds like a very complex eco-system of titles and...horrifying weapons to kill divinities, all things considered. Your world is probably the most different one I've encountered while here.
[But if only one of them is offended, then Alucard's winning the day as far as he's concerned.]
So then indulge and correct my ignorance - what does it mean? Because it puts my ears in mind of familiar spirits and spellcasters.
spoilers ahead...
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.
oh boy thanks he hates it
Given that cooking involves fire, you're going to have to be attentive on principle, or else create a bigger problem for yourself. I'll think up a few things and then we can figure out the where of it all. [Eggs. Eggs are a good place to start. Toast. Poaching chicken, maybe, and steaming vegetables. Simple things that take real effort to fuck up. Maybe starting in the Horizon would be best, before moving into reality.
Before it all gets too serious though, Alucard does try to defend himself. Just a little.]
What about me has suggested that that's where my brain has been for a while?
[What is like, being negatively horny? Because that's where Alucard has been for long time now thanks to what happened back home. The gesture gets an absolute eyeroll because Gideon, for god's sake, then he shuts up.
He refills his wine glass before she digs into the real meat of the explanation, nodding along quietly for the bulk of it. That Alucard's shot in the dark wasn't entirely incorrect is reassuring, but as the particulars evolve, his face sours. And then sours more because he can tell that there's going to be an incorrect meaning but the level of incorrect meaning still takes him by surprise.
Alucard's not sure if he hates it as a concept because to absorb an entire person like that is just really fucked up (and his father's people are absolutely awful), or because it applies very specifically to a friend that he cares about and just as well has told him that she's expected to die for someone else's success. Either way, he pretty much takes a split second to down all of the wine before managing a response.]
First of all, what the fuck. Second of all, now I'm going to insist on equal acknowledgement because you don't rise in rank by doing something like that without making a point to include--
[His free hand gestures vaguely. There's no words. Just disapproval now.]
definitely a bad time :(
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.]
he's pretty sure he's shank a bitch for gideon at this point
one of twobest friend at this point in his life, he cares So Much?But at least he gets a laugh at the continuing theme of Gideon giving absolutely terrible nicknames to everyone (he's gotten off so light in that department.) The whole thing may be convoluted, but he can't really comment or question that part of things. He knows how it goes, he has his own set of complex, bullshit circumstances that are absolutely terrible. They're just terrible in a way that doesn't involve denying someone their entire humanity and being absorbed by someone else.
he's gonna have one hell of a time later with the shitty plan to ressurect his dad and his mom and force them into one sewn together body.It boils down to a terrible calculus, doesn't it? One that makes Alucard sigh more out of empathy for being forced into such a corner rather than at the decisions made and all of that.]
I can follow the arc of it, although what I can't quite put my finger on is why any of this evolved to a point of nessecity in the first place. But I'm hardly one to talk, especially if I'm this sober. [There's the finishing of his glass, but that's really for effect.]
Second one first: so you know where to find me if I'm not at the graveyard. As for the first, it's public hall, and a rare architectural survival from the early days of the city. There's still flourishes of Thorne's influence here, both with the magic - as you've already experienced - and the style of construction. It needs some work, and I need a project.
[Because if he keeps his mind and hands busy at all times then he can avoid falling into the worst parts of depression.]
she'd be so touched ;;
[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.
Look he's bad at friends and has learned not to take them for granted
[Prophechies are a mixed matter, but God and/or the devil? Easier to accept that things are just That Bad and then to deal with all attendent feelings later. Alucard's....well, mostly processed the family part of everything going badly. Or at least that's the lie he likes to tell himself.]
I think that one isn't too big a mystery. The place started out under Thorne's control, and so magic was in place. Making one's own identity can mean rebelling against foundations - in this case magic - and sometimes that rebellion can become insisting on being the opposite just out of spite. Or at least that is the theory I've been working with and seems to make sense. [Alucard pauses, generously refilling the glass before continuing.] It's a shame too. My father's house had technology on par with what's here, but he was still an immensely skilled mage as well. Hard to raise entire armies from Hell if you aren't.
[He shrugs, refilling his glass after Gideon's.] Not for me to decide. I was just asked by a small group of citizens to do the restoration work. Jaskier seems to think it'd be a good concert hall, and I can't disagree with him.
And he's one of the first friends she's ever made!
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?
i genuinely love that it's just he befriends the brash, gideon is a beacon to the goth kids
[He's only met the creature once, but it is...well, very unique to anything Alucard's seen so far.] Well, after a concert I imagine you might get a few people interested in your biceps.
[His grin is thinner but no less there. Jaskier would probably be an excellent wingman too, if he was to consider it any further.]
Never had to worry about pious. When a good portion of your countrymen think your father is the devil incarnate - and in a way they're not wrong - things are simpler. They end worse, but you know where you stand. [Dracula had always earned his reputation, in Alucard's view. It was impossible for him not to, having pulled nonsense like murdering every man in a village that had offended him, but leaving the women and children be while the whole place burned.]
Equity is the right word, I think. No shortages, things are considered standard. Only my father's people have this kind of stuff back ho- did you just say baby vats??
[HE WAS ABOUT TO MAKE A POINT, BUT.]
it's gotta be all the skulls
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.
that checks out
and look if he was the right gender he would be damn willing to help get things started if he wouldn't be dealing with a slight crush, probablyWherever her head is at though, it seems a good time.A shame to anchor it. But one doesn't get to throw out the words baby vat and not explain.]
While I can confirm that childbirth is a risky proposition at best, based on my own peoples' current time and place, I'm. I'm fascinated by the science but also now have questions about what happens if a pregnancy happens by accident? And...am realizing I am perhaps much happier in ignorance, since you mentioned extremely ancient nuns.
Re: that checks out
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.
no subject
it'd be a tale of two great tiddies]Unfortunately, that is what it is. And that's before you're a mystery hybrid baby whose parents don't know if you can even go into sunlight.
[It was not a fun time with baby Adrian, even if he was objectively cute as shit.]
Hmmmm, something says that I haven't quite met the required levels of talking with her to gain that information. Which is fair. [He shrugs, as Alucard is the exact same way with his trauma.] And obviously. Here I thought my two former associates and myself were an odd pairing - and we had the excuse of prophecy.
no subject
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.
no subject
[
well shitright fine no more baby talk. But look how cute he was]That is a vampire name if I ever heard one, and a terrible vampire name at that. Haggette? Does she at leave have a swamp to live in, or is your home entirely just bone, no swamps for atmosphere?
[He'll leave it be, but he has to at least get one dig in about names here. Thankfully, sword time is now you goblin.]Oh, well, that sounds like it is time to compare apples. Tell me about what you two do. I bet you a second bottle of wine I can top it.
no subject
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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