/SEXY BEACH PARTY

[toothsomehound]

[As soon as the sun had slid behind the horizon, pierced deep in the chest by the mountains (and wasn't that imagery that brought back memories), Alucard had felt an ache easing in him.

he hadn't even known he'd had it, but returning home to Wallachia, returning home to brutal winters and great wolfhounds in the kennels and standoffish corpulent woman cooks who made food to coat your bones and warm them, warm them, was good. it soothed him. he had missed his motherland. every land had a scent, and there was no smell good as home.

he watched the thick snow fall through the double French windows of the castle he (a wealthy foreigner, he'd said he was, from England for some years now- not a lie, certainly not the truth) had recovered. it was odd to see it turned to peacetime purposes. he still couldn't shake the feeling of wartimes come when he paced its corridors, but ah, ah. he was a fossil, an old man, a monster of time. what did it matter?

not much.

turning away, Alucard shrugged on a smoking jacket, eyeballed his library lazily, and stepped out into the hallway, intent on standing on the garrets and enjoying a good cigar for an hour or two. perhaps he'd hear the wolves this night.]

Comments

[maldame]

[The coat was bulkier than the worst burnous, but it had cushioned Nyx's fall a little, and cushioned her against the cold even more. But it was dark, dark enough to easily stand out on the snow, and she didn't like how it made her feel, how it made drawing a knife harder than it should be, when she was approaching someone and she didn't know if they'd be friendly or not.

Then again, not drawing knives on people usually made them more inclined to friendliness.]

Pretty much my thought. Looks like you're the man with the solution to that too.

[Fuck this land, and fuck the cold, but Nyx doesn't give up a note, has never given up on a target in her life. Even if she's pretty sure she's lost by now.]

[toothsomehound]

That is one of the more generally-known perks of having lodgings, yes. [he looks her over for a bit longer than most people would strictly feel comfortable with before sweeping out of visibility. a few moments later, his footsteps can be heard echoing through the night as he descends some stairs.

the door she's standing in front of shakes, jolts, and then snaps open, dislodging a fair amount of snow. Alucard stands there in the doorway, illuminated from behind by the lanterns lit for the main entranceway of the castle, far behind him. for just a moment, just a breath, his shadow stretches out long and spiny and sinister, before it snaps down again to being just a man's, albeit a tall one's.]

Please, do come inside. I can have my servants draw you a bath and prepare you a warm meal. [he is every inch the gracious host as he stands aside in the doorway, motioning her in.] Do hurry, though. The wolves in this region are known for their savor for the flesh of man.

[maldame]

[She doesn't bother speaking back to him while she's still outside, taking the gaze with ease. She's had people staring at her since she came back from the front. She's not someone who generally minds that, though it's made her job hard a number of times.

Once he's opened the door, though, she studies him. Paler than any Ras Tiegan, that's for sure.]

Good thing they'd find me a tough kill, then.

[She steps inside nonetheless, eager enough for the warmth.]

Forget about the bath, but if you've got whisky I'd love a glass.

[That'll do more for warming her insides than any change of clothing.]

[toothsomehound]

A good thing indeed, I'm sure. [he gives her a small, humorous smile, though the expression seems to indicate that he's got an internal joke brewing rather than anything he'll be sharing with her.]

Very well. We're hardly short of the stuff- I was indulging a bit myself, prior to your... arrival. [the door slams shut, probably just forced from the violent gust of wind that swept the courtyard just now. Alucard leads the way inside, shouldering open the heavy front door and waving over a sleepy-eyed servant.]

Have her given clean clothes and hot tea, and then deliver her to my library, if you will. [he pauses, just for a moment, politely leaving a gap for any objections.]

[maldame]

My clothes are clean enough, unless I'm offending you with the smell?

[Nyx tilted an eyebrow up, letting it be a challenge. She'd lived in worse, hell, the classy clothing on her world was all organic, made out of living bugs that could adapt and let air in. A little snow on the outside of her coat, on her pants, was hardly worth fussing over.]

And I'm always fond of having my liquor sooner, rather than later.

[Nyx might be an unexpected visitor, but that didn't mean she wouldn't be pushy. He could try to throw her out again if he didn't like it.]