Open Mingle | First Inaugural Flux-Drift Vampiric Council

[delaurentiis]

Who: Open to all.
Where: Abandoned Laundromat, Blocks.
When: November 2nd
What: A Vampiric Council is established.

Warnings: Blood, Vampires, Murder mentions


Invitation

The following image has been pasted around the Pavillion and the Blocks. It was posted to the forum, but the comments were locked.



Establishment of the Council

Around the back of the abandoned laundromat, the doors are open and a dim, red glow welcomes onlookers and invited guests inside. There is sort of a cursory approval process for entry, which consists of a look of scrutiny followed by acceptance.

The red glow comes from multicoloured string lights, of which all but the red bulbs have been meticulously removed for the ambience. As promised, there are very few chairs. The ones provided range from plastic, fold-outs, banana lounges or a bench that has been ripped out of the ground.

The chairs surround a foosball table that is helmed by Nandor. He has diligently obeyed his own orders and so he is wearing an entirely white suit. He is unaware that the combination of this, his well-groomed facial hair and gaudy rings make him look like a Persian mafia kingpin.

There are a handful of people milling about, some of them very obviously vampires and some whose appearance could go either way, but they stop to listen to Nandor when he begins to speak, with varying levels of interest.

"Greetings, Vampires. I have gathered us to speak of mounting worries that face our humble community.

As many of you know, living amongst mortals comes with great risk to our kind. Where there are gruesome murders follows suspicion and hatred from those who fear us. I have known many good vampire who, as it were, flew too close to the sun and were consequently obliterated by it. And by it of course I mean mortals. Humans. But we cannot be naive and pretend their fears are unjust– not if we don’t act justly as vampire, at least.

For centuries, vampire in my world have been governed by councils of our kind. Locally. Globally. Of all ages, of all races, of all nationalities but with our one commonality at the forefront, vampirism.

We are safer when we are united, with unanimously agree upon terms that shall ultimately protect our kind from the perils of– what I believe they refer to now as “Woke Mob Justice”-- The terminology does not really matter– but a fear and hatred of our kind could be our undoing in a world so unfamiliar as this.

And though I have gathered us, trust that I do not seek to claim power for my own. I anticipate discussion as to the hierarchy of this council– but I shall not accept one without a figurehead who is willing to protect and advocate as a true leader should.

Know that it is widely accepted that the eldest and most experienced vampire ought to man the council. I myself am over seven-hundred and sixty-two years old. I was a general and subsequently Supreme Viceroy in my homeland. I have lived and survived as a vampire for many hundreds of years. I have been in many vampire council and lead– co-lead at least one.

However, let it be known that I will relinquish control to a worthy opponent. Should they wish to challenge me."

Topics of conversation

Once Nandor is down speaking, he opens the meeting to others. Discussion and debate is encouraged amongst the attendees. Facilitating is minimal, though Nandor will try to manage any conversations that become too animated.

Some examples of topics that will bounce (sometimes literally) around the foosball table are:
The ethics of killing fellow fluxdrifters
The contaminated blood
The midnight skinner
Turning fluxdrifters
Council hierarchy
Regularly scheduled orgy (put forth by Laszlo)

Mingling

When the discussions have run their course, the council breaks for the evening. There's certainly a vibe that mingling is encouraged, though the bizarre atmosphere might suffocate the attendees. Tinny, jazz music warbles from an aged radio, it's hard to say if the words are in a bizarre, unheard of language or if the voices are warped beyond comprehension.

To the side of the room is a water cooler full of blood with styrofoam cups provided. Evidently it's not easy to refill, since there are blood smears all over the cooler and the wall behind it.

Some extremely manky couches have been pulled into the dusty room, sit at your own peril.

On an upturned bucket acting as a coffee table sits a pink tissue box with the words sujeshion box scribbled across the front.

Murder Mail-in

The Midnight Skinner can absolutely be summoned in your threads, feel free to submit them as per the mod instructions.

Comments

laszlo cravensworth / ota / will match format 🦇

[haemosexual]

Laszlo is here for reluctant moral support more than any particular interest in Council proceedings, a fact that is made quite clear by how little he is paying attention to any of the discussions. He laughs at inappropriate moments—when a particularly heated debate breaks out regarding hunting humans versus subsisting purely on donated blood, for example—but is otherwise just kinda there.

He does bring up the topic of a regularly-scheduled vampiric orgy, though, because of course. (This is met with a smattering of approval, which Laszlo counts as a full-blown successful proposal, anyway.)

Once the Council breaks, he doesn't really stick around to mingle. It could be that he's spotted someone he really doesn't want to talk to, or maybe an acquaintance has curiously walked in and seen regular human man Laszlo Cravensworth at a vampire meeting, or he's just so fucking bored that if he stays one more second in this sad, mildew-y gathering, he's going to kill somebody.

Whichever it is, you can either stop him on his way out or, if you want a little more privacy, follow him outside.

[sanguineus]

This is the sensible one, clearly.

Well, "sensible" might be generous, but moderately more sensible than his bumbling companion. Astarion's appraisals of Nandor may be extremely biased in ways that Nandor has no reasonable way of counteracting, but he's not going to abandon them any time soon. So he watches this "Laszlo" with equal suspicion.

Based on his manner of speech, he deduces this is the other man he "spoke" with on the forum looking for some sort of human slave. It leaves a sour taste in his mouth despite how he made light about it, but he is a bit curious how that went for the man.

But if there's one thing they have in common, it's that Astarion also thinks this is a sad, mildew-y gathering of a very pathetic sort, and someone should probably be bled for it. Just not Astarion, thank you. So before the discussions have even ended, letting a few of the others bicker amongst themselves about the sort of frivolities that you expect vampires to do, Astarion slides up with a half-full cup of blood. Lukewarm, but. It's blood.

"Not putting your hat in the ring for supreme council leader?" he asks, trying to sound as appropriately bored and uninterested as he can. It's small talk. You know, trying to garner who really has a chance at sitting themselves on top of some hierarchy.

[haemosexual]

Maybe not so much more sensible as he is more cynical, but it's an easy mistake when Nandor is so very, very stupid.

Laszlo eyes this new vampire with very obvious judgment, looking him up and down without an ounce of manners. He's more disdainful about the cup o'blood, though, grimacing in distaste once his gaze drifts over it.

"And shackle myself to a life of bureaucracy? I can think of about twelve things more pleasant than that right now, many of them involving a hot poker and one of my orifices."

He pauses a second, seemingly considering the actual amount of pleasure to be derived from this hypothetical, then shakes his head and gestures at the cup, his tone edging on condescension.

"You're one of those, then? Dining from bags. Fuck knows the source."

[sanguineus]

Astarion can't say he exactly disagrees. He has some memories of his former life as magistrate and the tedium that comes with it and managing vampires has got to be even more infuriating. The "hot poker" comment does get a gentle raise of Astarion's brow, but whether it's surprise or interest is unclear. Just that he takes note of it.

But it really shouldn't be that surprising given that this man--Laszlo, as he believes he recalls Nandor calling him--proposing the orgy.

"A shame your proposal didn't sound more popular."

Which Astarion is, admittedly, a little surprised by. Nights of unhinged, hedonist sex is fairly par for the course when it comes to vampire gatherings. Maybe everyone else is a little tired of it. Or they just feel that Nandor is too strange to get naked in front of.

He looks down at his cup, feeling suddenly a little put on the spot. He purses his lips slightly.

"I've been considerably more conservative since the 'incident'," he argues. Then with a roll of his shoulders, he assumes a more relaxed pose and smooths out his features into one of his patented smiles. "But the idea in itself? Why, it is a bit novel to have an entire supply of blood available without having to put in the effort of stalking and hunting your dinner?"

He gives a wave of his hand.

"Don't get me wrong, fresh is better--" As is human, but he won't note how novel that also is to him. That would sound weak. "--but it doesn't hurt when it's free."

He takes a sip with a pointed pause.

"When you've watched nearly half of the others here try it and not keel over."

No way he was going to poison himself first.

[delaurentiis]

Nandor stays to mingle, naturally. He will firmly grasp any opportunity to be the centre of attention, which is why everything needs to be perfect. His eyes slowly wander from the person in front of him, watching Laszlo leave without a word.

He politely excuses himself from the conversation, white cape affixed to the shoulder pads of his coat aflutter behind him.

"You are giving yourself an unfavourable reputation." He calls out after Laszlo, he's using his bitchy, serious voice.

"And myself, because we arrived in the same vehicle."

[haemosexual]

Laszlo briefly considers going bat and leaving this conversation entirely, but he is trying to be a little nicer as of late. A kinder, gentler Laszlo who treats his friends with the respect they deserve as important fixtures of stability in his life.

Laszlo turns around and, walking backwards, flips Nandor off with both hands.

"Really? I don't remember promising to wait 'til you were ready. I attended. It's over. I'm out."

Alucard | is he even allowed here? he says yes

[cryptsleeper]

[The poster is....a lot. Extremely pink. Very clear as to the creator. And while it does in fact make an excellent point - the undead are easy to single out when there is a rash of killings and everyone is in a panic - Alucard finds himself a bit cynical at the idea of success. He's seen attempts like this before, and they always end in stupid, petty fights.

A stupid, petty fight could be fun right now though, so he goes all the same. Carries himself with the usual confidence that comes off as a wall of ice, and lets his fangs serve as proof of his half-heritage. His sword is at his side and visible, although he'll accept requests to keep it sheathed if asked by the organizers.

The inside is...well. He'll admit the House of Sacrifice did the vampire den a bit better. But they had time, this is an ad hoc situation that hopefully might become a bit more serious.

He'll listen to Nandor's words from a quiet corner, keen to observe the reactions of those around. There is at least one term in Nandor's speech that goes over his head, but the rest is an appreciable attempt to get some kind of loose structure going.

For most of the evening, Alucard spends his time listening rather than getting involved in any of the particular discussions. He perks up most keenly at the mention of the blood, but that's Fern's domain so far as he is concerned and he makes a point to not say anything.

His quiet continues into the evening's mingling. Except for when there's a need to change the water cooler. Then he walks over, observing the apparent difficulties.]

--I believe a damp rag might be helpful to begin with? The older smears are causing new slip ups.

[delaurentiis]

I believe you may be right.

[Nandor, contending easily with the heft of the cooler is struggling with wet hands. Suddenly a white suit feels like it may have been a terrible idea.]

I believe we ought to make an effort to lure in familiars, so they can bring rags.

[cryptsleeper]

--Or I can just go find some now. [A familiar? That's ridiculous for a simple task that literally anyone here in the room is capable of doing.]

Just put that down for a moment. Let me--

[Oh, good. Someone brought napkins. Alucard will make do with that, and he takes up a handful and disappears somewhere in a direction where he hopes there's a restroom. Mercifully, there is, and there's running water to boot.

It isn't the most striking image, the dhampir dripping water while returning from a restroom, but it does mean that the cooler can be wiped down and wiped down quickly.]

Can you hand me some of the dry napkins, please?

astarion ancunín ❢ baldur's gate 3 ❢ ota, will match format! sorry i can't shut up

[sanguineus]

[ Astarion came expecting a circus and he isn't disappointed. Those who don't know him may be surprised to learn he has a rather low opinion of vampires, one that he wisely keeps to himself throughout the duration of this meeting. Because vampires are dangerous and he has no desire to make himself a target for anyone looking claim a spawn.

The only reason Astarion even decides to make an appearance is because the flyer is clearly made by Nandor. And, despite the man's size and apparent experience as a vampire, Astarion has never been more confused in the presence of another vampire. He's everything you wouldn't expect and Astarion honestly feels like he's not competent enough to pull this off. So if other vampires in the city are like this? They are basically beginning for Astarion to lead the charge.

Astarion is wearing mostly white, as requested, wearing tailored slacks and a vest and shirt combo that suits his frame nicely. He has the aura of someone who could make a potato sack look fashionable and, even if he doesn't care to impress the company here, he wants to look good for himself.


At the onset he lingers near the blood cooler before the discussion begins, at first suspicious of the quality of the blood after the recent contamination. But after watching a few others sip, he fills himself up a cup and does his best to delicately sip from it. Even if he is very hungry. ]

Are these little cups just...a thing around here?

[ He doesn't hide the fact he finds them distasteful.

When the discussions begin, he merely watches, at first taking the measures of the others in attendance. He tries to discern their status and power, who seems like they want to be involved and who else is trying to gauge enemies from...less enemies. Who might make a worthwhile alliance if it comes to that. (He hopes it doesn't.)

When the subject of the contaminated blood comes up, Astarion is eager to raise his voice. ]

I refuse to believe the entire thing was a miscalculation. It was all too convenient being that it's a known spot for vampires to gather and play by some larger societal rules. There are plenty of other medical facilities that offer blood to the living, surely.

[ Astarion remains quiet during the other topics, but would be willing to engage in side conversations.

Truly, he isn't used to speaking up in a group of true vampires like this. Arguing with his siblings isn't quite the same thing. It feels...a little frightening but empowering in other ways.

After the meeting, Astarion waits to either approach anyone he deems a large threat or potential boon. Or he can be approached once again by the cooler or on one of the couches, though he will make notes about the poor fabric choices. ]

Quite the gathering, isn't it?

[ He keeps his tone neutral, trying to measure your reaction first. ]

After the meeting

[cryptsleeper]

It's about what I expected.

[Alucard isn't surprised that Astarion's here. He's also expecting that Astarion will have Opinions about the matter, because everything about Astarion that the dhampir has come to understand so far is that he perhaps has too many of them and they're very bitchy.

Which is the correct mood for this situation. Alucard himself has been far too quiet so far, making it clear his own feelings are still in assessment mode.]

[sanguineus]

[ Alucard is absolutely right, but he will also likely notice that Astarion has been on surprisingly good behavior in the presence of other vampires. Though he doesn't exactly radiate calm.

Alucard is, at least, a familiar face. He was curious to see if any of the others had knowledge of the man's half-breed status, but if they do, they don't seem to care. Interesting. ]

Is it, now?

[ Astarion takes an idle sip from the styrofoam cup. He hates the texture. ]

And how many meetings like this have you attended before, exactly?

after the meeting because we don't have enough threads

[crimebaby]

[ why is livio here? regardless, he's been here the whole time. standing around awkwardly like a potted plant ]

At least you can make some friends...?

[ he doesn't mean to imply astarion doesn't have friends, but it sure comes out that way ]

never enough

[sanguineus]

[ Astarion (incorrectly) assumes that Livio is here because of him. You know, because Livio has a ridiculous notion that Astarion (correctly) needs someone to keep an eye on him. But in that way that's less Astarion causing trouble and more that Livio actually seems to...care.

Which is. Strange.

But whatever.

In some small way, Astarion is grateful. Because he distrusts other vampires inherently and centuries of experience have reaffirmed that believe tenfold. Even if some of these appear to be...foolish. Or downright stupid.

Astarion scoffs, but doesn't move away. He keeps his voice low. ]

Is that what you think this was about? "Making friends"?

blood contamination talk

[delaurentiis]

[Nandor nods in agreement, conveying a deep understanding in his eyes that has not been present in many of his other interactions with Astarion. He looks a little serious, a little concerned.]

It is not unusual for vampire to be targeted, in my world. [Gravely, then with extremely low self-awareness.]

Certainly, we have not given them reason to hunt us already.

[sanguineus]

[ As much as Astarion wants confirmation that he's right--because of course he is, he knows he is, and while he doesn't need others to tell him he's right, it's nice to hear it. People don't do that enough--hearing it from Nandor strikes. Odd. Strange. Almost makes him want to be contrary just to make sure they're both on opposite sides again.

Though Astarion had shown up with full knowledge Nandor was the one behind this. Not that he is trying to gain the other man's approval either, no matter how old he may be. But Astarion is a little less animated than usual as he tries to navigate his way through this new vampiric society. ]

Is that so? I can't imagine why.

[ But he can't wholly help himself. Not when it seems like Nandor is so...Nandor

The point is Astarion could be a lot worse and someone should appreciate that. ]

You don't think that existing as a constant threat in their midst is enough incentive to want to take you down by any means necessary?

[crimebaby]

[ livio, for some reason, has been here the whole meeting. he doesn't engage in anything, just stands around awkwardly and silently. politely refuses blood. looks confused as to why he's here (which he'll probably have in common with anyone else who realizes he's here, not that he's easy to miss) ]

[delaurentiis]

[Nandor is in an animated conversation across the room when he locks eyes with Livio. He immediately silences the other party and peels away, swanning toward Livio with a broad smile.]

Hello. Are you the virgin?

[crimebaby]

[ livio flushes immediately, his face going entirely red ]

No! I ain't a virgin!

[ whether he is or not is up for interpretation ]

I was invited!

definitely not here (observing/eavesdropping)

[longtooth]

With an announcement as flashy as this one, given the brightly-colored fliers posted everywhere and a forum post on top of it all, it's almost as if whoever's trying to put together this "vampiric council" is hoping that others will come too, whether out of curiosity or disbelief. Or maybe they're even hoping they'll get an easy meal out of it. That's what Fern intends to find out.

She gets there a good few hours before the "wiching hour" and scopes out the abandoned laundromat, as well as where she can place herself within it to listen in. A washing machine that's clearly out of service is considered, but it's too risky. She covers her tracks, not wanting it to be obvious that someone disturbed the dust and cobwebs in the dilapidated building, and then settles into the upper vents of the building to wait.

She's in there for at least an hour, maybe more, before anyone arrives.

Morgan is with her as well, and it's hardly the first time that Adrian's sent his winged familiar with her. While she had once wondered if he didn't trust her to do her job, she now realizes that it's more to do with him finding his own peace of mind.

She remains ever-alert and deathly quiet as she watches and listens to the chatter of the meeting from the hiding space above; that includes the initial greeting by the one who fancies himself in charge and the conversations that follow after.

There are more than a few familiar faces in the crowd, some more surprising to find here than others. (There's no way Livio is a vampire, is he? He was walking around in the sun with her, and he also just doesn't seem the type in any way. She watches closely to ensure no one wants to make a meal out of him.)

The ones she doesn't know, she makes careful note of, and she puts any information she considers potentially important to memory to write down later. All in all, though, the gathering is far more mundane than she expected...

then the morning comes

[cryptsleeper]

[Alucard heads home in the rising sun. It is something he does pointedly and on purpose, less anyone make an error in his nature. The dhampir is many things, and that includes someone who prefers to be recognized as himself rather than mistaken for a vampire.

His eyes catch the movement of another figure. There's a pause as he tries to determine who it is, if only because there's a whiff of the famili--

--Ah.]

Fern? Are you covered in lint?

[longtooth]

[ Fern makes a point of waiting until it's daylight; the meeting concluded long ago. It means that most all of the attendees should have scurried into some dark hole by now, after taking a few hours to whine about how hard their lives were.

Typical vampire nonsense, in other words.

She needs to get to her bike and then back to the motel so she can take a shower, given that crawling through the vents in an abandoned laundromat means that she's caked in dust and lint. She's shaken off as much as she can, but there's only so much she can do.

She's cutting through an alley to avoid attracting attention at best and questions at worst. Not that many people are out this early, but then—

That voice. Well. If someone were going to catch her, at least it's him.

Fern spins around to face Alucard. A safe distance above them, a white raven perches on one of the rungs of a fire escape, quietly watching.

Dryly, she responds. ]

... You might not want to ask.

mingle, ota

[bigsmile]

( The poster had been eye-catching enough to grab even Luffy's attention, the pink standing out amongst all the other things. Even the spelling isn't a deterrent as the pirate captain makes his way over to the gathering, unaware of what a "vampire" even is. Luffy just knows he's been invited to "meat", and who doesn't like meat?

During the talking he stands at the back, listening in and doing his best to follow. They sound like another group of those different from people, trying to find their places against preconceived notions. It reminds Luffy of a talk he had with Charles, that not all worlds willingly accept the ones who are different so easily, and now it seems like there's something else to add to a list of things discovered; vampires. Idly, Luffy feels someone from back home would fit in really well here.

Though what they actually are is beyond Luffy, he's distracted looking around, missing talk of blood and orgies as he looks for the food. The mingle rolls around and he's more than happy to wander, grinning at anyone who stops him, more than happy to talk. He even finds the suggestion box, folding his arms and nodding to himself. )

I think this place needs more meat.

( Such a comment could be taken any wrong way in such surroundings.... )

[delaurentiis]

[Luffy doesn't... look much like a vampire. But they are in a very strange world, so perhaps he should broaden his understanding of what a vampire ought to look like.

His terminology seems to perplex Nandor, who furrows his brow and glances around the room at all the bodies in here. Then, to the cooler full of blood.]

Are you looking for something more fresh?

[bigsmile]

( Luffy's middle "initial" is allegedly the letter D, but many could be forgiven for thinking it would "Oblivious" instead. He doesn't even notice the bodies, putting them down as decorations from the festivals that have been going on. Spooky things have been around for a while now, and he gives a nod and another bright grin at the question, unaware of the fact he's practically walked into a vampire den. )

Yeah! Who wants old meat? I don't know anyone who would. ( A pause and then — ) You're in charge right? You were up giving the speeches.