March Catch-All [Open and closed prompts]

[distant_one]

Who: Anyone
What: D having experiences with March's blood power issues
When: March
Where: Around Trench
Warnings: None in top levels



1. When the night is overcome[open]

The sun wasn't a pleasant experience for D, but that never stopped him from enjoying it. Vampires who died to the burning effect of sunlight always did so with a smile on their face. The suffering sunlight brought D wasn't as great, but that didn't diminish the enjoyment of it.

So as he forced himself to go out during the day when his body wanted nothing more than to sleep, he focused on that warm, quiet joy that sunlight brought to him. As a warm blood, he'd never had to worry about blood magic spreading his feelings out to others.

But with the month giving warm bloods the abilities of other blood types, D was unknowingly broadcasting how much he enjoyed the sun to anyone nearby. With his hat providing shade for his face he didn't turn his face to the sun to enjoy the feeling of it on his skin, but he very much wanted to do so. That, too, the desire to just stop and enjoy the warmth of the sun, was shared with anyone close enough to get caught up in the emotion D was sharing.

2. You may rise to find the sun [open]

Dark blood is all about manipulating reality. D's purposeful experiments with harnessing powers of other blood types are done further away from everyone else. In the areas outside Trench, night turns to day in a small radius around him. Plants are illuminated and shadows are cast as if it's the middle of the day, but only in a small area around him.

Other times, during the day, the warmth of the sun vanishes, shadows blur and blend together into cooling night even though the area around him is no dimmer than it is. It simply feels like night time. Plants that close during the night curl up as if the sun is gone, and flowers that open only at night bloom in confusion.

3. Don't stand so close to me [open]

The carnivorous plants that are visible around trench don't seem as eager to grab D. They start to reach for him, but as soon as any part of the plant comes within three feet of him they recoil and shrink away. It's not enough to stop them from being cut down.

D walks around with his longsword in hand, and swings it with such speed that it's little more than a crescent of light severing plants and leaving them to writhe and wither in his wake.

4. The difference between realities [Closed for Mayerling]

It's a conversation that can't be put off forever. Mayerling found out about his death while he was a human, and even if he didn't remember that time, D was sure that Johan would have informed the Noble of D's memories shared with Trench.

D didn't want to discuss it at the time, though he was willing to do so, and he owes no less to Mayerling, even if this isn't the Mayerling of his memories. Their realities are extremely similar, even if this Mayerling might be older, or the rules that govern Nobility slightly different.

Mayerling burned in the sun the first day he was in Trench, but has no scars to show from it. In D's own reality that skin would never be nearly as pale and flawless. Recovering from sunlight so perfectly was something only those who had human blood in their ancestry could claim.

5. Defoliation [Closed for Sharon]

The Staging Point, with one ancient Dhampir and one ancient Greater Noble in residence, is largely free of plants attempting to take it over. D sleeps there at night, and Mayerling during the day. The area D effects while moving around is much lower, but the two of them spending so much time in one place is enough to discourage all kinds of pests.

Rats, insects, and this month encroaching plant life.

D doesn't mind lending his time and effort to Sharon.

"You don't need to stay here while I do this. It won't be pleasant for you," D says one last time. He keeps the worst of his aura in check most of the time, but he can easily use it for attack or to exterminate hostile plantlife.

Comments

The difference between realities

[whowillmourn]

Mayerling joins D one night, the air carrying with it the scent of life, sometimes too much life. He stays a respectable and polite distance away but close enough to be clear there is something on his mind. No crude prop comes with him—no letter from Johan, no omni opened up to D's memories for all the world to see even now all these many months later. Not Mayerling's memories. That in and of itself is part of the issue. As dramatic as the vampire is, for something like this, for a conversation with D, even a different D as he has from time to time suspected, he's understated.

"Do you have a minute, D?" Mayerling asks calmly. No one else is nearby. They have as much privacy as they can have here. Anyone else with superhearing could hear them, Mayerling supposes, but they can always head down into the other coffin for true privacy.

[distant_one]

The night always makes D feel more awake, and it takes effort to sleep at night even when he has been wake most of the day.

"I do," D answers. He's certain he knows at least some of the topics of discussion coming his way, and he's less than eager to have any of them. D could attempt to tell Mayerling there's no need to discuss Sharon, but instead of trying to nip that in the bud and prune their pending conversation, he'll hope that Mayerling will avoid that topic on his own.

[whowillmourn]

Mayerling waits a moment because everything is serious and heavy. It's not easy to bring up his death, his death at the hands of another (not D, another world where D spared him). When he thinks about it though, it's only the recent happenings in Trench that keep him from the terrible dark thought—what difference does it make? It can make all the difference in the world.

"The most overdue is," Mayerling says, "our differing worlds, our different histories, the difference in my life." A pause because all significant moments deserve their proper weight. "Your complete silence on the matter."

D needn't have had a conversation. He could have left a note. Anything. He chose silence. He chose to know that difference and say nothing. That choice has come home to roost.

[distant_one]

"It didn't seem important when you arrived. You recognized me, you were similar enough that another D spared you. When your play revealed how far the difference went, it seemed inappropriate to defend myself with that difference," D explains calmly and evenly.

For him it changes nothing. Mayerling lives, which is one less death than happened in his own history. "I think you're older, or perhaps more experienced with the world, but the difference is subtle."

[whowillmourn]

Mayerling snorts. A difference that matters greatly to him. D spared his Mayerling? Given how his Mayerling died, that happened while Charlotte was alive. He was trying to save a human woman he thought in danger, until he spared Mayerling. Mayerling's D (What an odd turn of phrase, it's not one he cares for, given he cares more for this D)... The play didn't end as badly. Charlotte, in the end, wasn't dead as the play versions of Mayerling and D thought. Still—

"An explanation is not a defense," Mayerling notes. He gets emotional over Charlotte; how could he not? Steeled for this conversation, he's as level-headed as he can be over the matter.

He appreciates that D adds the differences he knows about Mayerling, but Mayerling is a small part of the world. He inclines his head with a small flick of his cloak.

"What of the rest of the world?"

[distant_one]

"There was no other Noble who played a part in your counterpart's journey. There were no functioning ships at the space port he fled to. Sunlight leaves scars on Nobles, some differences among the Barbarois. Judging by your carriage and the horses, the technology is available is similar," D says calmly. He could elaborate more onto the finer details, but there's too little information for anything relevant.

[whowillmourn]

No functioning ships at the space port he fled to.

It hits Mayerling like a seeking arrow. He staggers slightly. Carmilla was always against them, Mayerling knows that now. Her ship, however, was real. The hope was real. If he had been faster, better, they both would have reached the City of the Night. What of this other Mayerling? Were there spaceships somewhere else? Were their fates sealed because he chose the wrong destination? Was there no hope for them at all?

Johan's life with his Charlotte is infinitely happier than either Mayerling's or his counterpart's. His life, his chance for life with Charlotte, seems better than the other's. An odd sensation, that his time with her, cut tragically short in similar moments of about the same time, should be the one with more hope. The one that might get looked at with longing.

Mayerling mentally breaks that arrow to shreds. Nothing was set in stone, save the past. Before it all happened, they had a chance. Mayerling will not take that from them even for how it ended.

"Charlotte told me she met D, when she went outside," Mayerling says, "to enjoy the sunlight. She told him she loved me, not to take her back to family, and that she'd rather die. When we fought, he and I, it wasn't mere vampire possessiveness. Nor only to honor her wishes, though that was the lion's share of it. Either he didn't believe her or didn't believe her will mattered."

D isn't that D, but he's the closest thing.

"Which would you guess?"

He doesn't ask if D would do the same because there's no point. They're living together amiably enough.

5

[fogsong]

Sharon lets out a soft exhale of a laugh, grin lopsided and toothy, but remains where she's seated, one leg curled beneath her, "If it gets too unpleasant, I'll leave, all right?"

Too unpleasant. It's hard to tell what will be too unpleasant for Sharon. She's always trying to prove herself, if not to D, to herself. Always willing to try just a little bit harder, push a little bit further. And unwilling to bend. She told him she wants to be here while he aura stomps some invasive plant life and she meant it.

"Plus, this might be good practice for me," Trench could drive him mad one day, could twist him up, and she has her doubts that he'll care much if his aura affects those around him in a state like that.

Re: 5

[distant_one]

"If you start having chest pain, tell me. I don't want to give you a heart attack," D says. He makes comfortable, which just involves leaning against a spot on a wall.

The temperature in the air drops and his eyes shine with a lurid red. The atmosphere seems thicker, like his aura is a physical thing with mass. It carries a feeling of endless darkness and the inevitability of death. Any pests in the house flee or simply die of fright, and any plants in the house whither and shrivel. Outside it goes more slowly.

[fogsong]

"Please," she responds with a roll of her eyes but her general easiness fades as the atmosphere changes. She sits up straighter, taller on the couch, as she sorts through the strangeness and pressures his aura imposes. Her heart rate spikes momentarily but, as she adjusts, it slows but never settles into what it had been previously. There's no denying that D's aura wasn't for the faint of heart.

Uncomfortably, she recognizes that it isn't too different from the moment the Otherworld starts. That brief silence and darkness before the siren begins to sound. The knowledge of inevitability. The worst of it comes from a different kind of familiarity, though. Of that memory of his they'd been trapped in. In the chaos of that memory, it had been hard to pay complete and total attention to how everything fell upon them, but she remembers a wild, imposing figure with an aura so similar.

She watches him against the wall and, after a long bout of thoughtful quiet, she finally speaks up, "Mind if I paint you like this? The distraction might be nice."

[distant_one]

"If you wish. Many artists find it a frustrating endeavor," D explains calmly, his words at odds with the heavy feeling in the air.

"If it starts to cause corruption I'll tell you to stop."

[fogsong]

"I like a challenge," she's quick to respond before she gets up and disappears from the room. She's gone for a time but she can be heard upstairs. There's a clattering, she dropped something (and cursed when she did), but she reappears minutes later, her arms laden with supplies, a folded easel under one armpit and a canvas under the other. It would have been wiser to make a few trips or ask D to follow her up to her room but she's not always wise. She doesn't even pretend to be.

She sets everything up, chooses the colors, and adds them to a glass palette still smeared with the shades of her last painting along its edges, and then gets to work. Unlike how she is when they're training, there's mindless easy confidence to every action, even under the strain of his aura.

"I've painted you from memory before," she admits without any shame, "It wasn't perfect but... Nothing I do really is. I don't get too hung up on it even when it frustrates me."

She looks up from her work, "Have you let people try to paint you before?"

[distant_one]

D waits patiently, outwardly calm for all that his presence fills the air with cold and feelings of impending demise that withers plants.

"You're apparently not the only artist here to have tried," D comments. Although the other one was working as much from imagination as memory from what D understands.

"I haven't let anyone paint me since I became a vampire hunter, and before that my memories aren't reliable." There probably are or were paintings of him. Perhaps even in the living area of the underground facility where he was born.

[fogsong]

"You do have a little bit of a fan club," there is amusement in her tone, lips twitching up at the thought of them. It wouldn't surprise her in the least if one of the many attempted to put D to canvas. Sharon isn't too concerned about them but may want to intervene with them if they start getting cult-ish instead of stan-ish.

The statement that follows doesn't surprise her any, though it manages to make her feel a blooming sense of pride that she was the first, "When did you become a vampire hunter? Do you remember?"

( 1 )

[ananym]

[ that's quite the reaction. then again, many vampires do not have the privileges alucard has, despite their shared nature. ]

I see you're enjoying yourself.

[distant_one]

[D nods in acknowledgement. His appearance is as calm and emotionless as ever, only the paleblood power gives it away.]

Yes. Is it not the same for you, or for the vampires of your home?

[ananym]

The other vampires cannot go out in daylight. As far as I know, I'm the only exception.

[distant_one]

You're more human than most dhampirs, yet you persist in calling yourself vampire.

Vampires where I'm from can't go out in the sun unaided either, but it doesn't stop their longing for it.

[ananym]

I am a vampire. That part of me is as valid as the human part. And I was never raised in a human society.

[ he couldn't even use his real name among them. they were so keen to put him in a box. "alucard". in the end, alucard accepted it and his role to them. ]

They long for it?

[distant_one]

Surely you're familiar with the concept of cross-species hybridization. You're vampire, and human, and neither.

We're dhampirs. The strengths of vampire and human, and often the weakness of both too.

[D glances towards the sun.]

Yes. Vampires long to see the sun, despite the pain, no imitation is ever good enough.

1. When the night is overcome

[hammerbearer]

For actual Darkbloods, it has been a month of completely normal experiences. Surely. Nothing to worry about, it's all fine.

But even if there wasn't an odd sense of paranoia about how natural everything felt, Gaia would probably have still been on edge as to when the other shoe was going to drop. So when she begins to experience an intense wish to tilt her head to the sun and let its warmth wash on her regardless of the discomfort(?!) it would bring, there's a part of her that internally goes 'aha! I knew it'.

Still, there's a way these emotions feel right and familiar. And Gaia comes to realize the odd lack of sync is related more to how she trained herself months ago to recognize what memories and emotions were hers and which were...

So she starts looking around and eventually finds and approaches D. There's perhaps a touch of exasperation on her features but mostly she's relieved; the closer she got the more intense the emotions and it made it more apparent that he's the source rather than some throwback to confusion on her own identity.

Gaia is also aware that D probably isn't doing this on purpose and probably wouldn't want to continue. Can he control it? Who knows, but she's not going to just sit there and let him be unaware of the issue.

"D?" How to put this delicately? Well she has at least waited until there's no one visibly around to broach the topic. "...I imagine you might not realize it, but I can sense what you're feeling."

[distant_one]

"What I'm feeling?" D asks, looking Gaia over. A quick glance around reveals more people looking in the direction of and smiling at the sun than there should be. "I see."

It takes a moment, but D manages to make the broadcast emotion vanish.

[hammerbearer]

Gaia waits. When the feelings subside, she closes her eyes as though to reach within and see if they're truly gone. Then a brief nod and smile.

"There, that's certainly better." She opens her eyes and looks up at him again. "At least I'm sensing nothing. Is everything alright?"

It's not without some concern she asks and she can't be certain this isn't one of his normal gifts. D is nothing if not a man with surprising abilities. It's hard to tell sometimes when it's blood-related or some characteristic of his being.

[distant_one]

D nods, just a slight movement of his head, in response to the question. A number of people around them look surprisingly disappointed at the sudden loss of the good feeling, but D has doubts they'd feel that way if they knew it wasn't entirely their own. Or perhaps not, the people of Trench have lived under Pthumerian influence their whole lives.

"I seem to be experiencing blood powers of other blood types this month. I suspect that was paleblood." Which was much milder than his sudden manifestation of coldblood powers.

Life and Death (energy) [Closed to John Gaius]

[distant_one]

[The sword D brings is garishly gold in color, both hilt and blade. It's a longsword with a broader blade than D's and a dragon for the cross guard with the blade emerging from the dragon's mouth.

The metal is gold in appearance only, and the sheath is just as indestructible and garish as the blade. It's forged from an exotic supermetal alloy even D wouldn't be able to name, much less know how to make.

D waits politely outside the door to John's house, confident that at least some of the wards he walked through alerted him to D's presence.]