/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]

[It was rare enough that Nyx saw rain, and while cold was nothing new -- spend enough time in the desert after dark, and anyone would find that out -- this kind of wet cold was.

The boots she'd bought were unfamiliar on her feet, and she slipped on the damp stone, catching herself as she fell but ending up with a face-full of snow.]

Fuck.

[It was loud, particularly over the sound of nothing but the snow falling, but that didn't mean much, just that there probably wasn't anyone to hear it.

She picked herself up again and kept heading for the door, see if she couldn't convince the owner to let her have some kind of shelter.]

[ioudas]

(or perhaps he'd hear cross in all of his belligerent glory. the snow was terrible, the wolves were worse - never shutting up - and all he wanted to do was curl up in alucard's magnificent library without the fuss of actually dealing with his host.

perhaps he was a terrible guest (no perhaps, he is a terrible guest by every permutation of the word) but regardless with the heat of the fire and the coziness of the chair, he could relax with a good book from alucard's collection.

oh, some vintage erotica. alucard, you horny bastard.)