eachdraidh | iv. video. open to both courts.

An announcement I should have made a while ago.

I'm vampir. If you're ab-dead, undead, living dead, whatever the fuck, I will offer you at least my ear and the benefit of my doubt, particularly if you are young, hungry, or newly-arrived. This is hardly rational of me; just an old man's old habit. Take advantage, if you will, of my extended patience, but don't weigh too hard on it.

I'd also add my voice to that of the Lady Grell, and reiterate the point she made during the Samhain festivities, given that the old god-dog has requested our service. Don't fuck with the Black Shuck. He comes to all of us in time. You will have ample time to regret being disrespectful towards him.

[He sighs, kicks back, presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose.] Finally, I need information on the Sisterhood of Nymphs and I don't have time to squint at the scribblings of ancient scholars and other lunatics. The Pyrii, specifically.

Go. Anything you know. [Eyes closed; he is clearly asking to be regaled rather than engaged in conversation.]

[PRIVATE TO EFFY:]

Don't know how long I'll be free. Do you still want to learn how to fight?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[well, you're getting engaged in conversation regardless. deal with it.]

Feeling kind today?

[He refuses to move, staying reclined back in his seat, lazily massaging the bridge of his nose with his eyes still firmly shut.

Sighing:]

Few people realise it, but I am an extraordinarily kind man.

[could have fooled him.]

Perhaps all the bloodshed and vulgarities give them the wrong idea.

[Cracking an eye open:]

I said I was kind, not polite.

[Sooo dry, mouth hitched up in a faint, wolfish grin. He's...actually in quite a good mood. He's been spending his nights digging recently, focusing on the hard physical work of shifting what bones he can and thinking over his plans. It's probably worrying that opening graves feels like a pleasant relief, but he'll take his relaxation where he can find it.]

I wasn't aware that tearing throats out was just rude.

[but it saved his life at the time, so he says it with a good humor to match the brucolac's.]

But I wanted to thank you for finding your friend for me. We managed to have a talk before Samhain was over.

He stabbed me first. Didn't he?

[It does tend to all blur together. He frowns as he opens his eyes more fully and sits up in his chair, as if searching his memory for detail. When Saralegui mentions his business with Alyosha, he wrinkles his nose a little—but there's honest relief and gladness in his tone.]

Good. She wanted to speak to you; she wasn't so angry as I'd anticipated. Did it go well?

I'd assumed her good mood was your doing. [a knowing look and a slight smirk, but he leaves it at that.] It did. She's arranging everything so the transition should go smoothly.

[A faint snort, a wry look.] Perhaps.

Of course she is. Well, the place has my loyalty, you know that. It's not unconditional, but for now it remains.

I don't imagine I'll be doing anything to upset that, but no promises.

[joking! mostly.]

Have you finished your task for Tzilan, or is this new hunt for information somehow an extension of that?

[a subtle nudge for details, but he won't push. both of them being in a good mood doesn't necessarily mean they're totally okay.]

Mmm. [He smiles, a little ruefully, and distinctly close-lipped.] This is a task born out of my own personal interests. I'm moving on from playing the sellsword.

And on to what?

Future planning. I'm sick of running to catch up, or reacting to other people's catastrophes. If I must deal with havoc, let it be of my own creating.

[That last is distinctly wry.]

Havoc isn't my aim, of course, merely a possible outcome. It should be a simple and self-contained trip on personal business, but I'm wary of making such optimistic statements these days.

And what personal business do you have with nymphs?

[personal business with nymphs that could possibly result in havoc. it sounds worrying.]

[Laughing:]

Perhaps I've an itch only they can scratch. Saralegui, what I want from the nymphs is, for now, my own business.

[The reproach is genuinely good-natured; he wouldn't have expected Saralegui not to ask, after all.]

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