[closed] | One evening in the spring

[cryptsleeper]

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.]

Comments

[frontlinetitties]

[He makes the grabby hand gesture and she's more than happy to oblige, holding out her almost-consumed bottle of wine and watching as he pours. She's definitely drunk now, and her eyes have the glazed aqueous look that attests to it, but not so drunk as to fail to appreciate the depth of the conversation.]

Hey, you're welcome. Glad to be of use for something besides hitting things with a sword or carrying heavy shit for once. And I think I get the concern...it'd be easy in a way, to just stop giving a shit. But you obviously do give a shit, or we wouldn't be having this conversation.

[She holds her bottle aloft in a toast.]

So here's to giving a shit. And if there's anything I can do to help with your renovations, you know where I'm at. Even if that does just involve carrying heavy shit.

[And she drinks - long and deep - from her newly refilled bottle.]

[cryptsleeper]

[Alucard takes his sweet time in looking from bottle top to bottle top and figuring out the right height to pour from. The angle of it. And okay, there is absolutely a little sploshing, but it isn't as bad as it could be and he manages to half the bottle appropriately. The room is swaying gently when he passes Gideon the bottle back. They probably won't get much further than this, and Alucard fully expects that they won't be leaving the building for a few hours.

Get pillows for next time this happens is the mental note he makes for himself.]

The heavy shit is only metaphor this time.

[Here's to indeed. Alucard leans over, the clink! echoing off the walls of the hall.]

Here's to giving a shit. And your future romantic endeavors.

[He's not going to chug the bottle, but he's pretty sure that it is worth hoping for success in Gideon's personal life. One of them should be the lesser disaster.]

I promise not to abuse your kind offer though. And we will figure out the cooking thing. You can't keep your muscles going on bar food.

[frontlinetitties]

[At the mention of romantic endeavours, she softly groans. Perhaps she's fucked. Totally doomed to always fall for the wrong kind of woman, such as ancient warriors who kill all her friends or vicious, pious Reverend Daughters who seem to contain all the sex-drive of the dried-up stick she resembles. This is not how she envisioned things going for her.]

Ugh, don't remind me. It's probably a lost cause. You'll have much better luck with teaching me to cook than wishing me well in the romance department, and I say that as someone who doesn't have the first fucking clue about preparing food.

[She sighs, then slumps back against the boards beneath her, propped up on just her elbows. Wine sloshes over the bottle's rim, and she makes a disappointed clicking noise with her tongue at the wasted droplets.]

Giving a shit, though. It's definitely worth hanging on to.