away ran the children to hide in their beds

[birdofhermes.livejournal.com]

WHO: Ilde Decima & Alucard
WHAT: trolling.
WHERE: Gutters.
WHEN: Shundi, late evening.
WARNINGS: nothing yet but will be updated as necessary. HORRORS FOREVER.

It's been a long time since Alucard's had an excuse to alter his appearance in a manner that suits any definition other than "monstrosity". Tonight the change doesn't herald three headed dogs (or any other creatures of the night, for that matter); it's a bit more subtle. His hair, generally closer cropped, seems to have grown an inch or so overnight. It is perhaps unsurprising that he pulls off the grungy hobo look so well - but that's likely due in part to the fact that his attire fails to match his otherwise unkempt state in every way imaginable.

He's had the foresight not to wear his duster, for one. The colour (deep, vibrant red) remains in the form of a button-down shirt, the sleeves uncuffed around his wrists, covering the only aspect of his "uniform" that remains; the sigil-emblazoned gloves are still right in their place.

It's the leather pants that really make him look as if he's a regular Goth Club attendee. They aren't just leather pants, either; he's gone all out in terms of adornment. The garment's lined with rows upon rows of shining silver buckles - and yes, they are silver - that look like they'd be better suited for a straight jacket than a pair of pants fresh from the millennium. The fact that, given the locale, they're practically a weapon unto themselves is not lost on him, nor on the few individuals who take notice of him making his way through the crowd. Barring that - and he notes this with some degree of amusement - it seems he fits right in amidst the significantly less particular clientele.

His thumbs remain hooked casually in his pockets as he moves, nodding the occasional greeting (though paired with his grin it's always anything but friendly) to those who do take note of him. He halts when he's managed to separate himself from the crowd at large, scanning the masses for one face in particular.

There's no question that she's beat him here. He can already smell her, after all.

Comments

[rhinemaid]

As much as Ilde is comfortably confident that Deacon likes her, she's also confident he wouldn't lift a finger if she got in over her head-- so she hasn't beat Alucard by long, aware of the difference between playing with risk and dropping blood into shark-waters where she's outnumbered. She's almost demure this evening -- high collar, long sleeves, a skirt that flounces when she walks -- but not quite with all that thin lace, weaving through to meet her company. When she smiles, she isn't hiding her teeth, for a change.

"How very bondage goth of you, Alucard." Greetings are for suckers.

[birdofhermes.livejournal.com]

Her smile earns one in return, and Alucard bows, shallow, but not at all lacking in sincerity for what politeness he can muster. "Isn't it just?"

Yes, so, it amuses him as much as it does anyone else - which shouldn't prove much of a surprise, considering that the vast majority of his free time is spent on enthusiastic walks what few things do entertain him, these days. When he straightens again, Alucard's expression shows no sign of softening as he takes another moment to overlook the crowd.

"Shall we?"

Beyond having poked his head in once or twice for the purpose of familiarizing himself, Alucard knows very little about the locale; he has, after all, always been rather more concerned with the monsters in it. Thankfully, they seem rather intent on leaving well enough alone; so long as he's behaving, there aren't any foreseeable problems. Then again, when are these things ever foreseeable.

[rhinemaid]

Gutters is one of Ilde's preferred places in Baedal; she gravitates to the xenian population of Mafaton in general, one of the places where she can most reliably expect to find places where she won't be surrounded by humanity. Vampires don't worry her like other people - maybe they should, given what she is, but her introduction to the supernatural outside of the facility came with Sonja and 'taking vampires seriously' isn't really high on the priority list - and it's evident in how she moves through the club with him now, conscious of danger but not concerned by it. It isn't naivete; she knows what she's doing.

All things considered, someone other than Alucard might actually find that more alarming than the alternatives.

"We shall."