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Don’t sing if you want to want to live long... [open]
Who: Nadja and you!
What: One (1) confused vampire arrives on one (1) magical island
When: 11/4, evening
Where: The Storyteller’s Temple, the beach, the Denny
Warnings: mentions of SPOOKY VAMPIRE STUFF i.e. blood drinking
i. the temple
[Nadja wakes up in a heap of black cloaks and petticoats. She feels vaguely hungover, which is weird because the wizard incident was days ago.]
What the fuck.
[She listens to the whole rundown, feigns like she understands what’s happening, and absconds with her little bundle of supplies. When Nadja gets outside, she approaches the first few people she sees, speaking in a heavy Eastern European accent.]
Excuse me, sweet mortal, have you seen a set of men dressed like myself, probably arguing about crepe paper? Those are my idiots and I would like to collect them.
ii. the beach
[Once she’s ascertained where she is and that none of her companions, of the vampire or Guillermo persuasion, are with her...well, Nadja feels that her only recourse is to wander Ensō like the creature of the night that she is. Truth be told, she’s not actually too concerned with finding Laszlo. He’ll be fine on his own, probably. But with everything that’s happened lately, a breather from her coven is more than welcome.
Nadja hitches her skirts up around her ankles and steps just to the edge of the surf, surveying the sea. It’s a nice sea, she supposes. The vampiress’ gaze rises to the moon, and she takes a deep inhale—and lets out a long, loud, inhuman shriek like the screaming of a mountain lion.
There’s nothing wrong—it’s cathartic, actually. Making her fearsome presence known. But if one didn’t know any better they might think it’s a sound of grief. ]
iii. the denny
[Finally done prowling the beach, Nadja eventually finds herself at a building marked DENNY. She doesn’t know who this Denny is, but there is the most enticing aroma drifting out of the building, which is strange because she hasn’t found the smell of human food enticing for several centuries now.
Inside, she sidles up to the nearest stranger with a saccharine smile.]
Hi, sweet baby. Tell me please where I can find a coffin or other small, dark box, please. [she bats her lashes enticingly, and then pauses for a moment, coming up with a somewhat plausible excuse.] I need it for...storing my belongings in.
What: One (1) confused vampire arrives on one (1) magical island
When: 11/4, evening
Where: The Storyteller’s Temple, the beach, the Denny
Warnings: mentions of SPOOKY VAMPIRE STUFF i.e. blood drinking
i. the temple
[Nadja wakes up in a heap of black cloaks and petticoats. She feels vaguely hungover, which is weird because the wizard incident was days ago.]
What the fuck.
[She listens to the whole rundown, feigns like she understands what’s happening, and absconds with her little bundle of supplies. When Nadja gets outside, she approaches the first few people she sees, speaking in a heavy Eastern European accent.]
Excuse me, sweet mortal, have you seen a set of men dressed like myself, probably arguing about crepe paper? Those are my idiots and I would like to collect them.
ii. the beach
[Once she’s ascertained where she is and that none of her companions, of the vampire or Guillermo persuasion, are with her...well, Nadja feels that her only recourse is to wander Ensō like the creature of the night that she is. Truth be told, she’s not actually too concerned with finding Laszlo. He’ll be fine on his own, probably. But with everything that’s happened lately, a breather from her coven is more than welcome.
Nadja hitches her skirts up around her ankles and steps just to the edge of the surf, surveying the sea. It’s a nice sea, she supposes. The vampiress’ gaze rises to the moon, and she takes a deep inhale—and lets out a long, loud, inhuman shriek like the screaming of a mountain lion.
There’s nothing wrong—it’s cathartic, actually. Making her fearsome presence known. But if one didn’t know any better they might think it’s a sound of grief. ]
iii. the denny
[Finally done prowling the beach, Nadja eventually finds herself at a building marked DENNY. She doesn’t know who this Denny is, but there is the most enticing aroma drifting out of the building, which is strange because she hasn’t found the smell of human food enticing for several centuries now.
Inside, she sidles up to the nearest stranger with a saccharine smile.]
Hi, sweet baby. Tell me please where I can find a coffin or other small, dark box, please. [she bats her lashes enticingly, and then pauses for a moment, coming up with a somewhat plausible excuse.] I need it for...storing my belongings in.
no subject
So clean-cut!
no subject
Why, thank you! I'm a demon, though, not sure if that counts. We don't quite have day-night cycles.
[Though as far as the human perspective goes, he figures a demon may as well be classed as "of the night". Darkness and evil and all.]
no subject
[Don't mind her, she's just making some real broad assumptions right now. Nadja curtsys very low, spreading out her skirts as she does.]
I am Nadja.
no subject
[Dark Lord? Boy, he hopes this doesn't go south. Michael's a little surprised to get a curtsy, but he has general memories of when that was a human custom; he returns it with a bow.]
Michael. It's a pleasure.
no subject
[There's not a trace of sarcasm there; Nadja's being incredibly genuine.]
The pleasure is all mine. Tell me, Michael, how is it you came to this place? Did you wash ashore like a drowned rat, too?
no subject
[okay that's not exactly it, but near enough]
Maybe six months ago. You arrived at a good time - you missed the dragon setting everything on fire all over again.
no subject
[Her brows raise in disbelief. Dragons aren't real???]
You mean this was a movie-film you watched, right?
no subject
[you get the gist]
no subject
[She's being dead serious.]
Well, it is probably best I missed the fire-breathing dragon. Wouldn't be a good welcome for me to burn to a crisp.
no subject
[Goodness knows there's enough of those floating around.]
I think things have settled down now. You should have a while to get comfortable before the next crisis.
no subject
no subject
no subject
I don't suppose it'll be easy to procure a nice Persian rug, then.
no subject
[From. Something?]
no subject
[She reaches out and tugs at Michael's bowtie cheekily.]
If I need decorating advice, I know where to look. Oh, is there a trade in taxidermied animal corpses?
no subject
You know, I'm not sure. Could ask around, I guess.