Drabbles and annoyances and celebrations, oh my

[winter]

First of all, happy International Women's Day!

Second, wtf's up with all the lists of OMGexpertise on little_details? Paging the mods, someone needs to put that comm on moderated for a day or two.

Third, yesterday. Okay, I fell asleep at 9.30 PM and slept until morning :P So instead, there are two drabbles today.

For alighiera, part of the fake-title challenge (though she didn't give me an actual title): Coldfire, shipboard, Gerald and Damien killing time.

NOVATLANTIS, DEAD OF NIGHT

The sea splashed softly against the sides of the ship, but the sound carried far in the night. Nothing else disturbed the silence on "God's Glory". Shadows moved over the faces of the moons.

Damien saw the figure approach, but didn't react. He knew the one person likely to prowl the deck at this time of night had good night vision.

He didn't hear footsteps, but he did see the booted feet stop next to his head.

"At this time of night, you're usually to be found in Mes Rasia's company," Gerald Tarrant remarked neutrally.

Damien wanted to say it was none of the Hunter's business, but for some reason it didn't quite come out that way. "She broke it off."

"Ah." Tarrant sat down gracefully, smoothing wrinkles from his clothes. "Getting drunk is a traditional way of dealing with something like that."

"Not much else to do here." Damien shrugged and gestured at the sky with the bottle. "It's that or watching the clouds. That one looks a little like the Matriarch when she's angry with someone."

"I think it looks more like a snarling cat."

The Hunter took the bottle from Damien's grasp without asking permission. Damien considered resisting, but all it'd gain him would be maybe a stain or two on Tarrant's clothes and at least a week of icy anger.

Not that he wanted the Hunter in a good mood, of course.

"The night sky was much more interesting on Earth," Tarrant continued. "The Core was only a streak of denser stars, but other stars were scattered all over the horizon. Men drew lines connecting them and named those constellations after legends."

"You talk like you've seen them."

"I have a few old star maps. There were whole systems of belief based on configurations of stars and planets."

"Figures." Damien took the wine back and concentrated on not telling whether it tasted any different now that Tarrant had drunk from it.

If any constellations were visible from Erna, he wondered, would any of them be named after the Hunter?

EDIT: Second version, canon-correct this time:

NOVATLANTIS, DEAD OF NIGHT, take 2

The sea splashed softly against the sides of the ship, but the sound carried far in the night. Nothing else disturbed the silence on the "Golden Glory". Shadows moved over the faces of the moons.

Damien saw the figure approach, but didn't react. He knew the one person likely to prowl the deck at this time of night had good night vision.

He didn't hear footsteps, but he did see the booted feet stop next to his head.

"At this time of night, you're usually to be found in Mes Rasia's company," Gerald Tarrant remarked neutrally.

Damien wanted to say it was none of the Hunter's business, but for some reason it didn't quite come out that way. "She broke it off."

"Ah." Tarrant sat down gracefully, smoothing wrinkles from his clothes. "Getting drunk is a traditional way of dealing with something like that."

"Not much else to do here." Damien shrugged and gestured at the sky with the bottle. "It's that or watching the clouds. That one looks a little like the Matriarch when she's angry with someone."

"I think it looks more like a snarling cat."

The Hunter took the bottle from Damien's grasp without asking permission. Damien considered resisting, but all it'd gain him would be maybe a stain or two on Tarrant's clothes and at least a week of icy anger.

Not that he wanted the Hunter in a good mood, of course.

"The night sky was much more interesting on Earth," Tarrant continued. "The Core was only a streak of denser stars, but other stars were scattered all over the horizon. Men drew lines connecting them and named this multitude of constellations after true legends, not our half-remembered scientists."

"You talk like you've seen them."

"I have a few old star maps. There were whole systems of belief based on configurations of stars and planets."

"Figures." Damien took the wine back and concentrated on not telling whether it tasted any different now that Tarrant had drunk from it.

If the people of Erna named constellations after legends, he wondered, would any of them be named after the Hunter?

For alice_montrose, part of the Vampire Celebration: Tanz der Vampire, Herbert, Alfred and stockings.

THE DRESSING-ROOM DILEMMAS

Alfred's eyes were wide as saucers. His lower lip was trembling.

"I am not wearing this!" he declared bravely.

Herbert pouted and dangled the lace stocking from his finger.

"No!" Alfred stomped his foot.

"And I suppose nothing I do will convince you otherwise?"

"Um - no?" Alfred took a step back.

Herbert bared his fangs. "Oh, a challenge."

Alfred squeaked as he was dropped arse-first onto the bed, his trousers disappearing in a whirl of lace and determined vampire. The squeak turned into a moan as Herbert truly got to work with fingers and tongue and teeth.

Some minutes later Herbert gave a final soothing lick to the reddened skin of Alfred's inner thigh as he fastened the last garter strap. "So what was that about stockings?"

"Mmmmm." Alfred was finding it hard to form coherent sounds.

"Good." Herbert smiled angelically as he approached the wardrobe again. "Now, the corset."

Comments

[alice_montrose]

I hope that's good wine Damien was drinking from that bottle, or he'll still get a week of icy anger for offending Gerald's palate.

Bwhahahahahaha! Herbert is an evil pervert! *celebrates*

[winter]

Good wine, good wine. Damien picked up something from Gerald in the inns that didn't have blood on the menu.