Who: Fern & Alucard, Astarion, Rowena Where: Panorama; the Pavilion, neutral locations When: Mid-February What: Attempts to track what might be left of the Midnight Skinner.
[ When it comes to interactions on the Forum, Fern does her best to keep track of phone numbers, particularly when it's someone who rubs her the wrong way. She's therefore aware that one of the people she and Alucard are meeting with is someone who'd been a nuisance on Adrian's post about the contaminated blood at the clinic.
She also suspects it's likely a vampire of some sort, which leaves her uneasy about this meeting, but she shares that with Alucard on their way to the meeting spot.
Panorama has any number of discarded and abandoned buildings that work well for meetings such as this, and Fern made sure to check this one over and ensure it wasn't the front for some sort of gang activity before suggesting it. It must have once been a restaurant of some sort, but now all that's left are booths with torn-up seats and the skeleton of a kitchen in the back.
She plants herself on one of the stools at the counter, eyes on the door as she awaits the mystery person's arrival. She has the sheath of her dagger resting on the counter near her, though that doesn't mean she isn't armed in other ways.
She shoots a glance toward Alucard. ]
They're expecting some sort of payment, but let's see what they can actually offer us first.
[Alucard, not much of a user of the Forum, had looked over the exchange all the same. He has a slight hunch bout who this may be, but he'll be quiet about it until things are confirmed.
For now, he leans with his back against the bar, standing next to Fern. His sword hangs low and obvious, hilt glinting in the poor light.]
Hopefully, they'll take money over favors. I dislike this favor based economy.
[ Luckily for everyone involved, it's exactly who they don't want it to be!
Astarion is making a point to diversify is portfolio of work a bit. He is, in part, encouraged both by Karlach and Shadowheart making themselves contributing members to society. Setting an example, one could say, of involving oneself in more helpful avenues.
Astarion has never thought he could be someone that is...helpful. And while he's not generous enough to do something for free, when he sees an opportunity to do something other than swindling others out of their joolies or outright stealing, he decides to take a chance. Who knows, maybe he will turn over a new leaf?
(Ha.)
Meeting in sketchy old buildings is hardly surprising in this city. Though no matter where he goes, Astarion makes a point to look fashionably dressed, even if he has had to adjust his aesthetics a bit to fit availability. So when he opens the doors to the derelict former restaurant, he looks more like someone who should be visiting a wine bar than a back-alley meeting.
(Ironically, the latter is where he does most of his dealings. But dress for the job you want, etc. etc.)
He stops near the entrance, letting the doors close behind him as red eyes dart back and forth between the others in the room. ]
Well, well...
[ Whether he thought he would or not, Astarion does recognize both of the figures inside. Putting on a friendly smile is easy, practiced, although he knows he's only on decent-ish terms with one of them. ]
Look what we have here? Lovely to see you as always, Alucard.
[ He says as if they're bosom buddies and their last interaction hadn't been...odd. In some strange world of monsters where Astarion had all too readily thrown himself at Alucard's mercy for his own self-interest. But he doesn't step closer. He knows that Fern is...
Well, he assumes Fern is not fond of him. And she would be wise not to be. But he still does a little flourish of a bow as he waves one hand out. His own daggers sit resting against his back, hidden by his coat for now. ]
A little dressed down from the last we saw each other, aren't we? More...fitting of the occasion.
Fern had also suspected that it might be Astarion who walked through the door currently hanging half of its hinges. She decides that while this is a frustrating turn of events, it could be worse. At least it's not Laszlo.
Nonetheless, she makes a face, not exactly hiding her disdain.
Their last interaction (on the train, although by all accounts they'd — impossibly — been in Castle Ravenloft) had been a strange one, forcing her to question what of Astarion's position then had been real and what had been dreamed up as part of the illusion they'd been caught in by the storm.
Really, she hasn't wanted to dwell on it, but now she might have no choice.
She glances between Astarion and Alucard, already aware that they know each other. The two of them had chatted during that vampiric council meeting that she eavesdropped on, after all. She doesn't know what Alucard's actual feelings toward Astarion are, though, and is curious to see his reaction.
Flatly, she replies: ] And yet you don't seem properly dressed for this occasion at all. I hope you assured that no one witnessed you coming in here.
[ Whether or not they need to be inconspicuous about this is up for debate, but that's always Fern's instinct. ]
[ Rather than take her obvious disapproval of his rather impressive sense of fashion as a slight, Astarion almost looks pitting as he brings a hand to chest. The audacity of her entirely reasonable accusations. ]
How quickly you forget how I moved about the entire scrapyard unnoticed. Well, by anyone but you.
[ Pulling his hand back, he inspects his nails before sending Fern a sidelong glance. ]
I know how to move in the shadows, darling.
[ Alucard clearly needs to play the neutral party here, so Astarion readily shifts his attention to the dhampir. ]
I can smell blood just by being near it, but I'm not sensing anything now. How minute of a sample is this?
[ The thing is, Astarion isn't wrong. He had been able to move around that scrapyard almost entirely unnoticed. Almost. At least he speaks of that rather than their interaction on the train.
Maybe he also doesn't yet know what to make of it, or how to even approach that subject.
Nonetheless, everything about his over-the-top mannerisms, the way he drawls out darling as if all of this should be obvious, still has her bristling. ]
I thought I was quite clear about that on the forum post.
[ With a roll of her eyes, she picks up her dagger from the countertop, then unsheathes it. ]
I cleaned the blade after my encounter with the Skinner, as did Alucard. But perhaps with both weapons to work with, you can manage something.
[Alucard offers Astarion a moment's glance - unimpressed features, narrowed eyebrows - to indicate that he perhaps should stop needling thorn. His eyes then move over to Fern, a moment's frown on his face. No one's attitude is helping here.]
We're aware that this is a very, very slim chance. The hope is that a trace element might be enough, but we are quite prepared to be told that reality is against us.
[With that, Alucard unsheathes his own sword, holding it level.]
[ When it comes to the second meeting, Fern keeps to the same pattern as the first: picking a neutral and abandoned location, looping Alucard in with all that she knows beforehand, and sending the details to the interested party in a private message.
This time they're set to meet in what had once been an art gallery of sorts. It's nothing fancy, but a fluxdrift who liked art must have chosen to display what they found in the Fringes here and charged a small fee for people to come visit. Word is that they disappeared a few months back, and no one took it over on their behalf.
Now the walls are bare, with discolored squares where paintings once hung. Fern hangs the mirror that she brought with her (by the person's request) onto one of the leftover nails mounted to the wall. It hangs slightly crooked, but she doesn't pay that much mind.
She has less reason to distrust in this case, but her guard remains raised as she listens for anyone approaching. ]
Hopefully they're prompt. [ So she says to Alucard as she paces up and down, her hand resting on the hilt of her dagger. ]
[Alucard has taken to walking through the abandoned gallery, trying to imagine what it might have been. The idea of it, of starting something to show off art, sounds genuinely lovely. Something he regrets he didn't hear about sooner. He would have liked to seen a space like this.
It might be worth revitalizing, or else trying again. If he's right about the space, there might be lodgings squirreled away somewhere too.
He lingers besides the mirror, arms crossed, bundled in his fur lined coat.]
( rowena's voice comes from the back of the room, almost from the shadows. she'd teleported herself over, the gallery close enough that she hadn't felt like walking that day, appearing behind them rather than walking in )
It would have been nice to see what this place was before... this.
[ Alucard isn't wrong, though before Fern can respond to that sentiment, a voice suddenly sounds behind them. Given that she had searched the area and confirmed it clear before all this, she isn't expecting it, and she whirls toward the sound, her hand halfway to the hilt of her dagger before she realizes who it is.
Rowena, wasn't it? It's been some time since they spoke, all the way back at that first diffusion zone Fern had ever been to. It feels like an age, but she remembers the conversation.
She takes a few moments to recover, blinking as she takes a look around at the bare walls. ]
I suppose.
[ She might have had more to say if she hadn't been so startled. ]
[The hanging fixtures are all still there, of course. Alucard has to admit, the idea of curating something is one he hadn't considered before, but it feels like it would be a good way to occupy his time.
His eyes rest on Rowena, curious as to her own solution.]
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alucard & astarion.
She also suspects it's likely a vampire of some sort, which leaves her uneasy about this meeting, but she shares that with Alucard on their way to the meeting spot.
Panorama has any number of discarded and abandoned buildings that work well for meetings such as this, and Fern made sure to check this one over and ensure it wasn't the front for some sort of gang activity before suggesting it. It must have once been a restaurant of some sort, but now all that's left are booths with torn-up seats and the skeleton of a kitchen in the back.
She plants herself on one of the stools at the counter, eyes on the door as she awaits the mystery person's arrival. She has the sheath of her dagger resting on the counter near her, though that doesn't mean she isn't armed in other ways.
She shoots a glance toward Alucard. ]
They're expecting some sort of payment, but let's see what they can actually offer us first.
no subject
For now, he leans with his back against the bar, standing next to Fern. His sword hangs low and obvious, hilt glinting in the poor light.]
Hopefully, they'll take money over favors. I dislike this favor based economy.
no subject
Astarion is making a point to diversify is portfolio of work a bit. He is, in part, encouraged both by Karlach and Shadowheart making themselves contributing members to society. Setting an example, one could say, of involving oneself in more helpful avenues.
Astarion has never thought he could be someone that is...helpful. And while he's not generous enough to do something for free, when he sees an opportunity to do something other than swindling others out of their joolies or outright stealing, he decides to take a chance. Who knows, maybe he will turn over a new leaf?
(Ha.)
Meeting in sketchy old buildings is hardly surprising in this city. Though no matter where he goes, Astarion makes a point to look fashionably dressed, even if he has had to adjust his aesthetics a bit to fit availability. So when he opens the doors to the derelict former restaurant, he looks more like someone who should be visiting a wine bar than a back-alley meeting.
(Ironically, the latter is where he does most of his dealings. But dress for the job you want, etc. etc.)
He stops near the entrance, letting the doors close behind him as red eyes dart back and forth between the others in the room. ]
Well, well...
[ Whether he thought he would or not, Astarion does recognize both of the figures inside. Putting on a friendly smile is easy, practiced, although he knows he's only on decent-ish terms with one of them. ]
Look what we have here? Lovely to see you as always, Alucard.
[ He says as if they're bosom buddies and their last interaction hadn't been...odd. In some strange world of monsters where Astarion had all too readily thrown himself at Alucard's mercy for his own self-interest. But he doesn't step closer. He knows that Fern is...
Well, he assumes Fern is not fond of him. And she would be wise not to be. But he still does a little flourish of a bow as he waves one hand out. His own daggers sit resting against his back, hidden by his coat for now. ]
A little dressed down from the last we saw each other, aren't we? More...fitting of the occasion.
no subject
Fern had also suspected that it might be Astarion who walked through the door currently hanging half of its hinges. She decides that while this is a frustrating turn of events, it could be worse. At least it's not Laszlo.
Nonetheless, she makes a face, not exactly hiding her disdain.
Their last interaction (on the train, although by all accounts they'd — impossibly — been in Castle Ravenloft) had been a strange one, forcing her to question what of Astarion's position then had been real and what had been dreamed up as part of the illusion they'd been caught in by the storm.
Really, she hasn't wanted to dwell on it, but now she might have no choice.
She glances between Astarion and Alucard, already aware that they know each other. The two of them had chatted during that vampiric council meeting that she eavesdropped on, after all. She doesn't know what Alucard's actual feelings toward Astarion are, though, and is curious to see his reaction.
Flatly, she replies: ] And yet you don't seem properly dressed for this occasion at all. I hope you assured that no one witnessed you coming in here.
[ Whether or not they need to be inconspicuous about this is up for debate, but that's always Fern's instinct. ]
no subject
Alucard keeps his face carefully neutral. Astarion gets a polite nod first.] Good evening, Astarion.
[Everything is perfectly normal, thank you. Which means he will focus on the matter at hand, even if Fern seems oon edge.]
If someone did notice him, I believe that between the three of us, we can address the problem. Perhaps it is best that we get to business?
[Moreover, Astarion's form of help.]
What do you need to make this work, Astarion?
no subject
How quickly you forget how I moved about the entire scrapyard unnoticed. Well, by anyone but you.
[ Pulling his hand back, he inspects his nails before sending Fern a sidelong glance. ]
I know how to move in the shadows, darling.
[ Alucard clearly needs to play the neutral party here, so Astarion readily shifts his attention to the dhampir. ]
I can smell blood just by being near it, but I'm not sensing anything now. How minute of a sample is this?
no subject
Maybe he also doesn't yet know what to make of it, or how to even approach that subject.
Nonetheless, everything about his over-the-top mannerisms, the way he drawls out darling as if all of this should be obvious, still has her bristling. ]
I thought I was quite clear about that on the forum post.
[ With a roll of her eyes, she picks up her dagger from the countertop, then unsheathes it. ]
I cleaned the blade after my encounter with the Skinner, as did Alucard. But perhaps with both weapons to work with, you can manage something.
[ She's not all that confident, though. ]
no subject
We're aware that this is a very, very slim chance. The hope is that a trace element might be enough, but we are quite prepared to be told that reality is against us.
[With that, Alucard unsheathes his own sword, holding it level.]
alucard & rowena.
This time they're set to meet in what had once been an art gallery of sorts. It's nothing fancy, but a fluxdrift who liked art must have chosen to display what they found in the Fringes here and charged a small fee for people to come visit. Word is that they disappeared a few months back, and no one took it over on their behalf.
Now the walls are bare, with discolored squares where paintings once hung. Fern hangs the mirror that she brought with her (by the person's request) onto one of the leftover nails mounted to the wall. It hangs slightly crooked, but she doesn't pay that much mind.
She has less reason to distrust in this case, but her guard remains raised as she listens for anyone approaching. ]
Hopefully they're prompt. [ So she says to Alucard as she paces up and down, her hand resting on the hilt of her dagger. ]
no subject
It might be worth revitalizing, or else trying again. If he's right about the space, there might be lodgings squirreled away somewhere too.
He lingers besides the mirror, arms crossed, bundled in his fur lined coat.]
There are worse places to be if they're not.
no subject
( rowena's voice comes from the back of the room, almost from the shadows. she'd teleported herself over, the gallery close enough that she hadn't felt like walking that day, appearing behind them rather than walking in )
It would have been nice to see what this place was before... this.
no subject
Rowena, wasn't it? It's been some time since they spoke, all the way back at that first diffusion zone Fern had ever been to. It feels like an age, but she remembers the conversation.
She takes a few moments to recover, blinking as she takes a look around at the bare walls. ]
I suppose.
[ She might have had more to say if she hadn't been so startled. ]
no subject
[The hanging fixtures are all still there, of course. Alucard has to admit, the idea of curating something is one he hadn't considered before, but it feels like it would be a good way to occupy his time.
His eyes rest on Rowena, curious as to her own solution.]
Thank you for coming, we appreciate it.