[Feed opens on what appears to be a cozy library of sorts, a fire flickering brightly in the fireplace. One wouldn't be alone if one felt chilly and timid at the sight, however
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[video] - SORRY FOR PURPLE PROSE I'M TRYING TO BE AS BOOK-LIKE AS I CAN D:burnforalltoseeSeptember 24 2011, 01:57:50 UTC
[Fire flickers so wonderfully in such dim lighting, doesn't it? And yet, something about the environment, as warm and comfortable as it looks...it seems cold. Frigid. Sterile and clean, in a way, but like a hospital before they had any sense of the propriety of washing their hands before reaching in to birth a child, or the idea that people with deformities were proper people, not abominations that were only there for experimentation.
Anyone with questions regarding their sanity would be confounded. Perhaps even the most stable of people would be alarmed. It's not a good feeling, but oh his voice is so warm and lovely, so gentle and inviting. And when he takes the tablet to look at her? Such a handsome man, though quite out of his era. Dark curls of well-kept hair end around his shoulders, and his garb is casual for his time-meaning he would be out of place even in a modern day European country during an overly historical celebration. Dark eyes, can't be black, no one has black eyes, that's just silly.
But his brow knits together as he regards her, his expression unreadable.
The flicker of the fire may sound ten times louder than it should be. Or maybe it doesn't sound like it's there at all.]
Well met, Miss Fisher. Or is it Missus?
[Everything else can wait for later, and he will tell her the answers. No, the first thing any real gentleman should know before speaking bluntly to a lady is, of course, her status.]
[Elena swallows. Um...wow. Does she ever feel like she made a mistake.]
Um...it's...Miss?
[Her answer almost comes out as a squeak.]
Listen...uh...my...my Lord? I shouldn't have asked it like that...I just...well I'm a huge fan of history - I had my own show for a while actually - anyway...if, if now's a bad time...you don't really have to answer my question. You uh...don't ever have to, actually.
[Cold fire. Her skin is all goose-bumps and her heartbeat has picked up a racing tattoo in her ears. Yes. This was definitely a bad idea.]
Vlad takes the tablet, the fire seeming to be a calm blue, but only for the half of a half of a second she can see it as it turns onto him. And damn, what a fine face it's fallen on! Fine features, pleasantly, well-trimmed facial hair, the sides framed in dark curls that turn up and curl to enhance his human features, ending near his shoulders. And such deep eyes, so dark, but no one has black eyes. That's just silly.
A beautiful young, unwed girl. The Underworld is so full of them, it is truly like his own new nesting ground. A new, virile place for him to rule.
Of course, one cannot tell that. But, dear Elena, do let yourself look into those eyes...just for a moment...just take a peek, a gander, and you won't be able to look away until he lets you. Curiouser and curiouser.]
I am no lord, kind lady, but a prince. Here, however, I will admit that I am prince of nothing. If you must call me, please do so fondly, and simply as "Vlad."
[Smooth, suave, and look at that smile. As a modern day woman might put it: "Guuuuh."]
Now, I believe you had some questions. I do not mind answering them in the least.
[Whether speaking to this man at all has been a bad decision will be a point of the future - a future in which hopefully Elena will continue to have the will to resist this stunningly dangerous example of manhood. Or is illusion a better term perhaps, since the handsome visage is more than likely to lull females into trusting a pretty face?
Only time will tell.]
So Prin- er...Vlad...um...well...why don't you tell me about your family? I don't want to make any rude assumptions. If you'll just give me a general history to start?
[She is not enthralled exactly nor enamored precisely, but her curiosity does have her intrigued by this stranger. Fiction and history both have her on her guard, however, so his dark and broody charms may not have their full effect...for now. Trust must be earned, gained - though with such a heart as Elena's, such emotion might not be long in being obtained.]
[He obliges, his eyes never leaving hers. All she must do is look for a moment, nothing more.]
My grandfather was Mircea cel Bătrân, later known as Mircea the Great. He was the son of Radu I, the voivode of Wallachia, whose principality he helped to establish. Basarab cel Mare, the first, was the founder of the House of Basarb, whose princess my grandfather, Mircea, married. He ruled as voivoide-prince-until his death, and bore my father, Vlad II.
In 1431, the year of my birth, my father's brother, Alexandru I Aldea took over the throne from Dan II, who had held it from time to time for over a decade. Unfortunately, the brother of my father died from illness, and he was the next to take the throne. By this point in time, he had been inducted in the Order of the Dracul-the "Dragon"-which was founded by the Holy Roman Emperor.
My father was chased away from many places, and, in 1447, he and my brother, Mircea, fled to Tîrgovişte. Unfortunately, this was made known, and my brother was taken and tortured before being buried alive. My father, too, was found wading the marshlands in order to get to the Danube River and rally his Turkish allies. He was executed, and supposedly buried near Tîrgovişte. I, however, do not know the whereabouts of his remains, and neither does anyone else.
[It may sound a bit like a text book, but that was many, many years ago, one must remember.]
[Somewhere into the narration, Elena manages to drag her eyes away and pull out her notebook. She begins taking swift and concise notes. When he finishes, the journalist is staring at her notes in consternation. She then looks up at Vlad.]
Wow...that's some dark history...
[She just barely refrains from asking about the heads on pikes and possible vampirism again. Somehow she thinks it might be best if he forgets she asked.]
One day, her paper will rot. The ink, the graphite, whatever she uses, will fade away. She will not be able to recall what he has said. She will grow old, and she will forget. She may forget in a week. The paper may get lost.
But Vlad? He forgets nothing. He's not human, after all. More than a man, much more, a man who has defied Death and God Himself. A man who has abilities none can possibly imagine. A man who is no longer a man.
A ghoul in the guise of a man. Simply called among his people: Ordog.]
Not as long as many others, Miss Fisher, not at all. Longer than others, shorter than the majority. Time is no relevance to my kind.
There were other questions, I believe.
[Not a question. A statement. Take it and run with your curiosity, Elena, and be a proper pussycat...or kowtow and be a coward. Either way, you look like a wonderful Number One.]
[It just so happens that his words seqwey into the question she's been keeping silent - uncertain of what response it will incite.]
Your...kind?
[So...he's not just historical then. Elena swallows, minutely afraid - but something in her also revels, always curious, always interested in learning something new - no matter what sort of danger that knowledge might place her in.]
[Ah, there's a good girl. Not so hard to read, no human truly is. They simply like to think that. A simple look is all he needs, and if combined-as it eventually will be-with physical touch.
Even felines on Death's Door are capable of purring if proper kindness is shown.
Humans are wonderfully dull, incredibly brilliant, but also completely and utterly blind.]
[Either this man is crazy or he's actually what he says he is - despite the possible reality of either one, Elena's mouth still asks, almost without her permission:]
Can you...prove it?
[Apparently the goosebumps on her arms and the raising of the hairs on the back of her neck are not enough. Such is the journalist's stubborn skepticism and her need to ferret out the truth.]
Out of nowhere, it comes. The question. Out of somewhere in Vlad's mind, of course, but very few people would be able to connect the two. Maybe even no one. It matters not.]
There is a very large, dark wolfhound I have seen about the housing district. He seems quite charming an animal, partially feral and yet friendly with the human beings and various others that reside in this place.
[Allllright. Elena is puzzled now, but she figures this is just the 'Prince's' polite way of ending their little question and answer session. Honestly, it's less rude than some people have been towards her when they've tired of the journalist's company.
She nods to the information. It seems she'll have to sate her curiosity concerning the secret lives of famous vampires later.]
Actually that's perfect. I'm living alone right now - it'd be nice to have a dog for a little added protection and company.
[Elena smiles. The (infamous) Dracula is pretty nice for someone who historically used to stick people on pikes as an example and also apparently drinks blood for breakfast.]
[Such a crooked grin on such a charming face. But still, yes, he is a prince, and charming, and pleasant and lovely and wonderful...and now he is certain. Very certain.
Number One has been successfully found.]
Mmm, I would keep a look out for him. He seems a little hard to coo to oneself, but that is the nature of beautiful beasts.
Anyone with questions regarding their sanity would be confounded. Perhaps even the most stable of people would be alarmed. It's not a good feeling, but oh his voice is so warm and lovely, so gentle and inviting. And when he takes the tablet to look at her? Such a handsome man, though quite out of his era. Dark curls of well-kept hair end around his shoulders, and his garb is casual for his time-meaning he would be out of place even in a modern day European country during an overly historical celebration. Dark eyes, can't be black, no one has black eyes, that's just silly.
But his brow knits together as he regards her, his expression unreadable.
The flicker of the fire may sound ten times louder than it should be. Or maybe it doesn't sound like it's there at all.]
Well met, Miss Fisher. Or is it Missus?
[Everything else can wait for later, and he will tell her the answers. No, the first thing any real gentleman should know before speaking bluntly to a lady is, of course, her status.]
Reply
Um...it's...Miss?
[Her answer almost comes out as a squeak.]
Listen...uh...my...my Lord? I shouldn't have asked it like that...I just...well I'm a huge fan of history - I had my own show for a while actually - anyway...if, if now's a bad time...you don't really have to answer my question. You uh...don't ever have to, actually.
[Cold fire. Her skin is all goose-bumps and her heartbeat has picked up a racing tattoo in her ears. Yes. This was definitely a bad idea.]
Reply
Vlad takes the tablet, the fire seeming to be a calm blue, but only for the half of a half of a second she can see it as it turns onto him. And damn, what a fine face it's fallen on! Fine features, pleasantly, well-trimmed facial hair, the sides framed in dark curls that turn up and curl to enhance his human features, ending near his shoulders. And such deep eyes, so dark, but no one has black eyes. That's just silly.
A beautiful young, unwed girl. The Underworld is so full of them, it is truly like his own new nesting ground. A new, virile place for him to rule.
Of course, one cannot tell that. But, dear Elena, do let yourself look into those eyes...just for a moment...just take a peek, a gander, and you won't be able to look away until he lets you. Curiouser and curiouser.]
I am no lord, kind lady, but a prince. Here, however, I will admit that I am prince of nothing. If you must call me, please do so fondly, and simply as "Vlad."
[Smooth, suave, and look at that smile. As a modern day woman might put it: "Guuuuh."]
Now, I believe you had some questions. I do not mind answering them in the least.
Reply
Only time will tell.]
So Prin- er...Vlad...um...well...why don't you tell me about your family? I don't want to make any rude assumptions. If you'll just give me a general history to start?
[She is not enthralled exactly nor enamored precisely, but her curiosity does have her intrigued by this stranger. Fiction and history both have her on her guard, however, so his dark and broody charms may not have their full effect...for now. Trust must be earned, gained - though with such a heart as Elena's, such emotion might not be long in being obtained.]
Reply
My grandfather was Mircea cel Bătrân, later known as Mircea the Great. He was the son of Radu I, the voivode of Wallachia, whose principality he helped to establish. Basarab cel Mare, the first, was the founder of the House of Basarb, whose princess my grandfather, Mircea, married. He ruled as voivoide-prince-until his death, and bore my father, Vlad II.
In 1431, the year of my birth, my father's brother, Alexandru I Aldea took over the throne from Dan II, who had held it from time to time for over a decade. Unfortunately, the brother of my father died from illness, and he was the next to take the throne. By this point in time, he had been inducted in the Order of the Dracul-the "Dragon"-which was founded by the Holy Roman Emperor.
My father was chased away from many places, and, in 1447, he and my brother, Mircea, fled to Tîrgovişte. Unfortunately, this was made known, and my brother was taken and tortured before being buried alive. My father, too, was found wading the marshlands in order to get to the Danube River and rally his Turkish allies. He was executed, and supposedly buried near Tîrgovişte. I, however, do not know the whereabouts of his remains, and neither does anyone else.
[It may sound a bit like a text book, but that was many, many years ago, one must remember.]
Reply
Wow...that's some dark history...
[She just barely refrains from asking about the heads on pikes and possible vampirism again. Somehow she thinks it might be best if he forgets she asked.]
So....have you been here long?
Reply
One day, her paper will rot. The ink, the graphite, whatever she uses, will fade away. She will not be able to recall what he has said. She will grow old, and she will forget. She may forget in a week. The paper may get lost.
But Vlad? He forgets nothing. He's not human, after all. More than a man, much more, a man who has defied Death and God Himself. A man who has abilities none can possibly imagine. A man who is no longer a man.
A ghoul in the guise of a man. Simply called among his people: Ordog.]
Not as long as many others, Miss Fisher, not at all. Longer than others, shorter than the majority. Time is no relevance to my kind.
There were other questions, I believe.
[Not a question. A statement. Take it and run with your curiosity, Elena, and be a proper pussycat...or kowtow and be a coward. Either way, you look like a wonderful Number One.]
Reply
Your...kind?
[So...he's not just historical then. Elena swallows, minutely afraid - but something in her also revels, always curious, always interested in learning something new - no matter what sort of danger that knowledge might place her in.]
Reply
Even felines on Death's Door are capable of purring if proper kindness is shown.
Humans are wonderfully dull, incredibly brilliant, but also completely and utterly blind.]
Nosferatu. Vrolok from pokol.
Vampire.
Reply
[Either this man is crazy or he's actually what he says he is - despite the possible reality of either one, Elena's mouth still asks, almost without her permission:]
Can you...prove it?
[Apparently the goosebumps on her arms and the raising of the hairs on the back of her neck are not enough. Such is the journalist's stubborn skepticism and her need to ferret out the truth.]
Reply
Out of nowhere, it comes. The question. Out of somewhere in Vlad's mind, of course, but very few people would be able to connect the two. Maybe even no one. It matters not.]
Do you like dogs, Miss Fisher?
Reply
Mmm? Dogs? Yes, I...guess I do.
[She really hasn't had time to own any pets since she was a kid.]
Reply
Perhaps you should give him a home.
Reply
She nods to the information. It seems she'll have to sate her curiosity concerning the secret lives of famous vampires later.]
Actually that's perfect. I'm living alone right now - it'd be nice to have a dog for a little added protection and company.
[Elena smiles. The (infamous) Dracula is pretty nice for someone who historically used to stick people on pikes as an example and also apparently drinks blood for breakfast.]
Reply
Number One has been successfully found.]
Mmm, I would keep a look out for him. He seems a little hard to coo to oneself, but that is the nature of beautiful beasts.
Reply
Not just beasts, honestly. But thanks for the advice. It's been a long time since I've had a dog.
I'm looking forward to it.
[It's a lot easier than trying to keep a man. Brief bitter thought.]
Reply
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