Public announcement
(Incidentally, I got this from
indigoskynet, who doesn't have me friended, but the originator last year was
sigma7, who was prompted by a comment of
reynardine's. How's that for the LJ social network working in mysterious ways?)
(May have crackfic later, though.)
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![]() April 1, 2006: Business as usual |
(May have crackfic later, though.)
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BTW, wonder if they're still (or again) keeping all the old junk in the castle, possibly in secret passages and chambers. VK and Herbert must have accumulated several tons of souvenirs over four centuries of living mostly in the same place...
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(BTW, you writing or homework pwning you?)
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here's hoping it doesn't break your angsty writing...
Normally Vlad Dracula would just ignore the knocking, or more likely not hear it at all from the master bedroom on top of the highest tower, but the day before had been the anniversary of his death. After suffering Gabriel’s brooding for six hours, he had managed to get them both drunk in an attempt to forget all about it. The night turned out to be a memorable one, but the corollary was that they were now spread out in front of the fireplace in the dining hall, and the pounding on the door was echoed by a more insistent rhythm in Vlad’s head.
Vlad grabbed blindly at a shirt as he stumbled towards the entrance hall. It turned out to be Gabriel’s, too big for him, so he just left it unbuttoned. Anyone stupid enough to knock on the door to a vampire’s castle at noon did not deserve decorum anyway.
The fact that the visitor was knocking on the gate from the inside, past the locks and deadbolts and portcullis, was Vlad’s first hint that this wasn’t a simple travelling salesman. The other was the fact that the boy – sixteen if he was a day, with blond curls and eyes like a blue-eyed cow – was glowing.
Dracula had spent time in Lucifer’s domain. It took more than a little glow to phase him. “What?”
“Uh – morning, sir!” the boy squeaked as he jumped. His wide eyes took in Vlad’s disheveled form and he blushed crimson. “I- I mean – m-“
“It’s afternoon,” Vlad interrupted irritably. His head was now pulsing with pain in tune with the stuttering. “And out with it, boy.”
“Um, I have-“ The boy gave up on verbal explanations and proferred a letter.
It was parchment, something Vlad hadn’t seen in a few centuries outside his own study. It was also clearly addressed to one Gabriel, Castle Dracula, Transylvania.
Not Gabriel Van Helsing, then? At least that ruled out the Vatican. He was hoping they wouldn’t want their toy back, since he was getting used to having Gabriel around.
“Thank you,” he muttered as he examined the letter. There was another line in the address, in a strange script that explained a lot. “Fare well on your way back.”
The change in lighting made him look up again. The boy’s glow – halo – was pulsing nervously.
“Uh,” the boy began again. “It’s RSVP?”
Vlad snarled. A sleepy growl announced the arrival of a dishevelled – and shirtless, since Vlad had appropriated that piece of clothing – Gabriel in the hall. Vlad threw the letter at him and stalked out of the hallway.
He could think of much better things to do than dealing with cherubim first thing in the morning.
Re: here's hoping it doesn't break your angsty writing...
Re: here's hoping it doesn't break your angsty writing...
Vlad tried to wrench the coffin lid back down, but Gabriel wouldn’t budge. Instead, the infuriating man handed him the letter.
”Dear Gabriel,” Dracula read silently.
“It is my brightest pleasure to invite you to a Festivity in the honour of Love, Peace and Goodwill among all of Our Kind. I am hoping that we can Get Along and treat this as an opportunity to expand our Horizons. The Event will take place in the establishment of Madame Racelle in Rue Houdon, in the Montmartre Quarter of the city of Paris. You are Most Cordially invited to attend, with whichever companion you choose.
Yours in God’s Eternal Grace and Glory,
Rafael
P.S. Gabe, please? You Owe me!
P.P.S. Mike says no weapons. I think that might be a Good Idea.
Vlad looked up. “No.”
Gabriel sighed and touched Vlad’s cheek gently.
Vlad wondered if that silver stake was still around.
Re: here's hoping it doesn't break your angsty writing...
Re: here's hoping it doesn't break your angsty writing...
Wait till Raguel shows up. Two words: vengeance angel.
Scene for VK/B
Her indecision pulsed against his senses as strongly as her heartbeat.
With the utmost gentleness, he directed her back, to her Watcher’s protection. “I shall say nothing further to sway you,” he said, then lifted his eyes to the man, who was watching him with wary and intrigued bewilderment. “Take care of your Slayer, Watcher. I must see to my own child.”
“Of... of course,” the man said, laying his hands on the Slayer’s shoulders.
Without giving the Slayer another glance, von Krolock turned away and strode across the room, aware of the disorientated emotion he was leaving in his wake, a subtle smile catching the corner of his mouth.
Behind him, he heard the Slayer’s dazed voice mumble, “Giles, what is he?”
Re: Scene for VK/B
Re: Scene for VK/B
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Re: Scene for VK/B
Re: Scene for VK/B
Re: Scene for VK/B
Re: Scene for VK/B
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNGST!
Re: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNGST!
Re: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNGST!
Re: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNGST!
Re: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNGST!
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And scene!
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Re: And scene!
Re: And scene!
Re: And scene!
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Re: And scene!
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Re: And scene!
Re: And scene!
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Re: And scene!
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Random Faith/Spike
Re: Random Faith/Spike
Re: Random Faith/Spike
Your fic, m'lady
Re: Your fic, m'lady
Re: Your fic, m'lady
Re: Your fic, m'lady
Re: Your fic, m'lady
Re: Your fic, m'lady
Re: Your fic, m'lady
Re: Your fic, m'lady
Re: Your fic, m'lady
Re: Your fic, m'lady
Re: Your fic, m'lady
Re: Your fic, m'lady
Re: Your fic, m'lady
Re: Your fic, m'lady
Re: Your fic, m'lady
Re: Your fic, m'lady
Re: Your fic, m'lady
Re: Your fic, m'lady
Re: Your fic, m'lady
Re: Your fic, m'lady
Re: Your fic, m'lady
Re: Your fic, m'lady
Re: Your fic, m'lady
Re: Your fic, m'lady
Gets worse...
Re: Gets worse...
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Re: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNGST!
Re: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNGST!
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*intrigued*
*sends you fic-writing encouragment*
CCA
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