milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

He's still not totally comfortable with the idea of sitting out in the open, but Daedalus has braved the mass of people long enough to get blood from the bar and find a booth that isn't completely shrouded in shadow.

The Nosferatu is liable to bolt if you stop and gawk, but if you're not planning on it, feel free to have a chat.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

For a cat that was as cautious of Nick Knight, and as distrustful of Montparnasse as he was, he certainly seemed to like Daedalus just fine.

Eh, maybe he was just a good judge of character.

Squeak wasn't the sort to gawk, not really, but he was certainly purring quite loudly as he wove around the Nosferatu's ankles.

That would be the Animalism. Or perhaps the smell of sewer rat. We're gonna go with Animalism.

Daedalus looks down to see the cat and smiles faintly, reaching down to scritch it between the ears.

Even though Squeak was near twenty pounds of cat, he still had a purr that was far bigger than himself, even though his meow was a tiny little squeak.

He arched up into the scritching, leaning hard against Daedalus' legs once more, tail swaying.

Not far off Sarah was working on a crossword puzzle, in pen, drumming her fingers idly against the page, she'd realize that her charge had run off to introduce himself to people eventually.

Daedalus doesn't mind the company. Animals are good friends. They don't judge on appearance, or on much of anything else. The vampire lifts the cat up into his lap and continues to rub his back.

Squeak kneaded at him a moment before curling up, tail over his nose, to settle in for a nap.

It was only a moment later that Sarah realized the feline wasn't still mewing for the remains of her milkshake. Her brow furrowed, blinking up from the crossword, scanning at almost floor and chairs, since he was generally on one of the two.

Daedalus leaves the cat to sleep, returning his attention to his blood and looking out over the bar with a much more content outlook than a few moments ago.

It was only a moment later that Sarah spotted the cat, smiling slightly as she padded over, "I see Squeak's introducing himself to strangers again."

She extended a hand, "I'm Sarah, cat's Squeak. Feel free to leave him there if he's not bothering you."

"He is no bother," the Nosferatu says, shaking the hand lightly. "I am Daedalus."

She arched a brow slightly at that, "Hopefully not as sorrowful an ending as your mythological namesake."

"Time will tell. The years have not been kind, on the whole, however."

She tilted her head curiously, "That's a shame."

What? Squeak liked him, clearly that meant he was Good People.

He tries to be, anyway.

"Life often does not go as we would have hoped, but we continue onward as best we can."

She nodded at that, smile just a little crooked, she could attest to that one personally, "So where're you from?"

(no subject)

sf-nosferatu.livejournal.com - 2006-01-17 05:12 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

iamnotstorm.livejournal.com - 2006-01-17 05:18 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

sf-nosferatu.livejournal.com - 2006-01-17 13:56 (UTC) - Expand

"You seem less bothered."

At least a little. The voice is still a soprano, but it comes from higher up.

A little bit more than double what it was, actually.

Daedalus looks up. And up.

"Lady Hel. As do you."

"Daedalus."

She's proud that she can remember his name. There are several people that she knows she should know, and doesn't,

"It has been a long time for me, I am afraid. With age comes understanding. At least in part."

He nods. "This is true. Time teaches many things. Will you sit with me?"

"I would be honored."

She doesn't even attempt to squeeze into the booth, simply settles down on the floor at the end of the table into a cross-legged position.

"Have you been well?"

"As can be expected. I am beginning to settle into this place. Why, already I have accompanied three witches, an Immortal, and another vampire into an Underworld dimension to rescue a third vampire from my own medieval past."

By Milliways standards, this makes him practically a veteran.

"Far outstripping my own experiences here."

She says with a mild form of amusement, and a smile,

"Did it go well?"

"There were some mild injuries, and Serena herself has unfortunately been comatose since her return. But she lives. Under the circumstances, the rescue was a success."

He takes another sip of his blood.

"And what of you? You returned home, I take it?"

"If I can be of help, you need only ask."

Hel belongs to the dead. The dead belong to Hel. It is a matter of loyalties, isn't it?

"I did. It was time to go. I do not think Ragnarok is that far away, now."

Daedalus nods. "I will inquire as to her condition. I may seek you out. Her Clan progenitor was destroyed. Such a thing is almost impossible to survive. Or so it is understood."

"I am, generally, in here or out by the lake."

While she can get up the stairs, they're too close and highly uncomfortable. As are the hallways.

"I do not know much about your kind of the dead. Would you tell me of these clans?"

"Certainly. Supposedly Caine was the first Kindred, cursed by God. He made three more, who then made the Thirteen. They were the Antediluvians, the progenitors of the Clans. After much infighting, the Thirteen spread across the globe, siring others and passing on their values."