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knife effect Vice Captain
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 Posted: Sat Feb 26, 2011 9:03 pm
Why Hello There
This is a Private RP between:
Chena and Piss
With Appearances by:
Dorian Arelgren
Dragomir Meschke
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Where: Outside Arelgren House, Shyregoed
When: Morning
Status: Ongoing
✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻
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Posted: Sat Feb 26, 2011 9:14 pm
Early morning in Shyregoed meant a thicker sheet of snow to eradicate from the Arelgren House porch. Dorian awoke from the manor's carpet, rubbing his chin with pleasant memories of his encounters in Imisus. How he arrived back (safely?) in his home was a mystery to him, though he assumed he most likely requested a trip from a rider or a carriage of some sort. In any case, he was home, and satisfied. The furniture was undisturbed in his absence, and Nancy's hot cocoa resided quietly on his bedside table. He smiled at it fondly, pressing his fingers against the floor to boost himself up from it.
Once standing, he ran a hand through his hair, and opened the nearest window for winter air. The room was snow-free for too long, and this bothered him. Once open, snow drifted softly from the sky outside and into Dorian's bedroom, speckling his furniture and carpet, some melting immediately, others slower to succumb in contact. Dorian poked his head out, staring at the empty house beside his own. He never took notice of the edifice really, but for some reason, the lighting perhaps, it looked quite anxious as if it were expecting company of a sort.
How curious.
Sticking a foot out, and then another, Dorian carefully balanced himself on the Arelgren House's tiled roof, plopping down to imbibe the view around him. His neighborhood was always this empty, arid in company, but wet in snow puddles.
"Good morning, Shyregoed," he murmured quietly. He'd spend the day doing absolutely nothing unless something exciting happened.
Excitement comes so rarely.
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Sat Feb 26, 2011 9:31 pm
Dragomir was uncomfortable. That was an understatement, really; he was in an unholy, unreasonable amount of pain for doing nothing but carrying his clothes and his shofar along with some money. And really, he had no idea why he was carrying the shofar - it was an obnoxious item that seemed to make everyone instinctual uncomfortable with its occasional rattling and whatnot. He had ended up selling everything but the shofar, however, in order to earn money for this move.
He had felt some instinctual pull towards Shyregoad for some reason that he could not name and had previously secured a house with the funds from ridding himself of his old, family home, useless trinkets, and other objects for cheap - which had been because, he had already been told, because it was in the shadow of a mansion and appeared quite run down and useless.
Run down and useless, however, were words Drago was accustomed to in a house and so that knowledge with the fact that it was still sparingly furnished, was enough to grab Drago hook, line, and sinker. That was actually where he was going now, to finally put this stupid shofar down off of his back so it could stop stabbing him in the spine in the most uncomfortable way imaginable.
"This isn't so bad," he murmured when he saw it, rolling his shoulders to fix the shofar tied to it, which rattled in a put upon manner at the shaking. He took another few steps toward it, his attention more on the manor next to it than his own shack, wondering who the hell felt it necessary to live in a place as lavish as that. He had not, and this was possibly a good thing, noticed the very familiar man sitting on the roof.
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Posted: Sat Feb 26, 2011 9:48 pm
Oh. So the house beside his own was expecting another. Dorian wasn't surprised that he wasn't notified, no, ever since the Linda Reese incident, Shyregoedians seemed to part like waves wherever he stepped. The familiar face that peered at his own bothered his nerve, for he couldn't place his finger on who exactly the said person was. Navy-blue eyes and platinum blond hair jogged his memory. Where had he seen this person before? Nevermind the man that newly arrived, what truly intrigued Dorian was the shofar the woman rid her back of.
That is certainly the largest shofar I've ever set my eyes on, he thought, amused, stroking his chin with his ungloved hand.
His eyes shifted back to the shofar's owner, and upon gazing into navy blue eyes, his memory clicked altogether.
Pub.
Alcohol.
Forty-Five.
"Well. If it isn't Dragomir, the woman with a masculine title," he said dryly, though something in his mind snapped when he realized how Dragomir's masculinity was quite apparent in her voice. Her apparel, though quite big on her, was definitely not meant for a woman. The strides she took in the snow weren't feminine either, and upon closer speculation of mannerisms, she didn't appear to be a woman at all. The giddy smile that crept onto Dorian's features now vanished completely.
What in Obscuvos's name...?
Ah.
So he'd kissed a man in intoxication.
Wickwright's urgent voice was concerned about that most likely. Dorian wasn't sober enough to understand him at the time, but the erudition gained through the morning's epiphany was enough to inform him of what occurred and what mattered. Possibly.
Dorian suddenly felt like climbing back into his bedroom in dread.
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Sat Feb 26, 2011 10:27 pm
He kept walking when an oddly familiar voice called him a woman but knew his name perfectly - Oh Obscuvos damn it.
This startling amazing idiot that was the reason he moved out here. Was he really so unlucky as to move in right next door to the man that had prety much ended life as he knew it? He started to damn Obscuvos Himself for letting him down after Dragomir did that elaborate sacrifice for Him before remembering that Obscuvos was known for spreading chaos and that, in the Glutton God's own way, this must be thanks for that human sacrifice.
Oh yes, someone remind him to never do something as stupid as that sacrifice ever again, despite being a full fledged cultist - it rapidly appeared showing thanks to Obscuvos was the surest way to die a painfully ironic death.
"Yes, except I am a male, good sir." It was simple enough to start off with, "As my name implies."
He knew that this was Dorian - Arengrel? Something like that, yes, but as it was right now, Dragomir's opinion of Dorian was that he needed a good sock in the stomach and hardly deserved a name - maybe once they had talked out that ... lovely evening, Dorian could earn his name from Dragomir, but not right now.
Not anything close.
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Posted: Sat Feb 26, 2011 10:50 pm
Dorian shifted backwards from where he sat, sending clumps of snow falling when he kicked. His lips parted--though not to smile--but to form an "O" shape. He restlessly made for his window, one foot finding its way inside, sending icicles from where his hands were, and causing them to tumble onto his carpet within. His eyes were frantic, almost afraid of the wry figure glowering at him from below. Dragomir's enchanting orbs became the source of ominous air.
He caught himself in his action.
No, he would answer the man, because Dorian Arelgren was no coward, even in the events where he was drunk and responsible for mauling another man's face (receiving a punishment subject to burning) and he planned on staying quite alive for the time being. Dragomir must not speak of the incident in Imisus, otherwise the Arelgren bloodline would cease to exist for the next millennium. For now, he'd play coy and polite.
Dorian's approach upon this situation he would revere in the same fashion he did with all his lampoons and shenanigans.
"Oh, but you are," Dorian returned with a smug smile, which instantly vanished when he spoke the next: "I'm awfully sorry, but I was drunk. I love the warmth of women. The softness of women is quite fantastic on a cold winter day...such as today...and I am not leaving this roof. Good morning."
He had no idea what direction he was going in.
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun Feb 27, 2011 1:36 pm
Dragomir blinked when Dorian spoke to him; what the hell was the point of it? He was not a woman and there was no way in hell that - even accepting himself as one - he would climb up a roof just to be next to this Dorian fellow.
"As was I, immensely so. However, I am not a woman and I am, in fact, rather skinny, so I doubt there would be much softness were I one. My..." it was here that his tone grew a little bit bitter for the first time, "sincerest apologies, kind sir."
He tilted his head when Dorian "would not leave the roof," and he blinked a few times in rapid succession as he formulated a reply other than, 'Great, you idiotic bugger'. "It is your own choice to leave the roof or not, I do suppose, but good morrow to you as well.
I suppose..." he uttered the next phrase not with bitterness but with hesitance, "we are neighbors now, yes?"
Was the man an idiot? Mentally sound? His votes were yes and no, respectively, but he kept his mouth shut, small, painted smile showing no signs of wanting to go anywhere any time soon. "I do remember you saying something about being Shyregoed's golden boy.
"My very luck indeed."
Perhaps it was the distance between them and the fact that Dorian could not get to him without some serious manoeuvering, but Dragomir was oddly catty this morning. Maybe he really was turning into a girl, weren't they known for similar cattiness?
Oh, the thought was almost too painful.
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Posted: Sun Feb 27, 2011 1:58 pm
Dorian giggled feverishly at Dragomir's response, amused by the sardonic, dryness of his new neighbor's tone. He slowly dragged out his other foot, so that both were once more on the roof and away from his window. He hadn't had company ever since the pub incident, and he'd want to make sure that Dragomir would speak nothing of it. He was to join the House of Obscuvos, surely they would be horrified to know that one of their to-be members was the most unfortunate of a drunk.
"Yes, yes, Shyregoed's golden boy. My blood runs with Arelgren gold." Dorian grinned, clapping his hands together. He gazed down at the irked man below before continuing with their conversation. The other would never lure him down from his fortress of roofdom. He would have to explain some ground rules later. For now, conversation and (possible) drugging would be the most fun.
"And yes we are now neighbors. Well frankly both houses to my own's left and right emptied themselves years ago due to a mutual hate for myself. Peasants anyways. However, you, seem quite the contrary."
Jade green eyes were now tinged with mischief. Dorian rubbed his chin, wondering what to do.
"Are you fond of chocolate, Mr. Meschke?"
What a fun game.
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun Feb 27, 2011 2:22 pm
Arelgren! That was it. Ah. He nodded at the reminder of his family name - so he'd mixed up a few letters here or there, it really wasn't a big deal to Dragomir when he had no intention of ever gracing Sir Arelgren here with his name.
"Mutual hate for you?" He snorted softly, to himself, picking the shofar up and wondering if it would be inappropriate to use the item as a bat of sorts to hit something up at him - and, to be honest, he probably would have, had he had anything to bat up at him other than clothes, which would not hurt. "I cannot imagine anyone finding any reason to hate you, sir. You seem like..."
He paused to think of the words he needed here. "Such a pleasant man. Drunk and sober."
Dragomir had been prepared to go explore the inside of his house and see where he would be living for hopefully a short amount of time - at this point being homeless looked to be a very nice alternative to staying anywhere near this idiot - when his attention was again called up towards the man who was firmly fastened to the roof. Chocolate..?
Oh Obscuvos he really was an idiot. Maybe when they left him in the pub he'd fallen and hit his head on the ground quite hard or something similar and had suffered some damage to his ability to make coherent sense when speaking to a stranger he had formerly engaged in an act of homosexuality.
"Am I fond of chocolate?" He repeated the question as though the reasons for asking it would suddenly be made entirely clear to him. They were not. "I suppose." He shrugged as though he didn't care either way - mostly because he didn't.
"I do not eat it much." There was a pause, in which he added in only the most suspicious of manners, "Why do you ask, sir?"
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Posted: Sun Feb 27, 2011 2:42 pm
Dorian wondered if Dragomir was humoring him or downright insulting him. All the man's answers were ambiguous, and this satisfied the Arelgren heir greatly. He struts the same style as I do... Dorian thought quaintly, eyes flickering. Oh yes, Dorian was a very pleasant man. Such a pleasant man. He assumed Dragomir was still sketchy about his new neighbor after the pub incident. Wasn't a surprise.
The poor man paints me a homosexual. Normally, Dorian would be disgusted with such an assumption, but with Dragomir, the misinterpretation was quite fun. Of course, he would make no mistake of addressing the platinum blond as a woman any longer. From this day forward, Dragomir Meschke was an Arelgren neighbor, and an Arelgren neighbor needed to be treated most properly.
"Obviously because it's the polite thing to do, Mr. Meschke. To offer a new neighbor something sweet to indulge. An icebreaker. Besides, I prepared a batch of chocolate for myself so that I may prepare for the meeting tonight. You know, for the House meeting," Dorian casually said, whistling a nonsensical tune shortly after.
Not that Dragomir would know anything of Felicity's House of Obscuvos.
Or would he?
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun Feb 27, 2011 3:07 pm
He lost track of everything after the words House meeting popped out of his fabulous new neighbor's mouth.
Of course Dorian was a House member; and if Dragomir's luck held out as it was, he was probably a priest or Onfroi testing him himself. He looked down, raising his palm to his face and rubbing his temples as close as he could with the thumb and index finger, trying to get the pulsing in his skull to stop sometime before five years down the road.
"You are... a member of the House? Of Obscuvos?" It could never hurt to be too clear, he supposed; maybe his luck had started looking up and Dorian would be a member of some other house. A member of "any House other than Obscuvos" that Shyregoed had and Imisus didn't. But, of course, he knew the hope was futile and that they were indeed members of the very same House. "What a..."
He paused, as he had several times before, to think about the fine line between being respectful and rude, which he had been heavily flirting with the entire time he had been talking to Dorian, before continuing, "lovely coincidence. As am I."
This meant he would have to be ... Nice. The word actually came very near to burning his brain just thinking it; he was not made to be actually nice, just blur the line between respect and insult. He was pretty sure he had come very close to being physically ill just thinking about being nice to this lovely man. He sighed, then rubbed his temples. He would have to accept the offer of chocolate, as well as go to the meeting that night, doubly so if his neighbor was actually serious about being an Obscuvan.
"I would... love some chocolate, then." He would love many things at the moment; chocolate was assuredly not one of them. He would have, for example, loved to see the man fall off of his roof and into the ground below. He would have also loved to go bury himself in a ditch. For now, however, he would simply have to deal with chocolate. "... Thank you."
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Posted: Sun Feb 27, 2011 3:47 pm
Dorian nodded brightly at Dragomir's inquiry. Indeed he was. Well. To be exact, he was formally invited and would become inaugurated into the House of Obscuvos soon enough, but to get on even ground with his new neighbor was an excellent motive in this game. Dragomir's fatigue was written clearly in the man's frustration, and this excited Dorian even more. At the answer that his new neighbor, too, was a House member, Dorian's pleasure turned from jaunting to sincere.
So Dragomir was a brother, then.
The game would continue on, though the rules certainly changed. Dragomir was no peasant, and was susceptible to rest in cinders due to the Arelgren boy's intoxicated adventure. He'd have to play the friendly friend of Shyregoed. It wasn't an overall terrible idea. He would be a new person tonight upon formally entering the house. A clean slate.
Tabula Rasa.
"Of course Obscuvos," Dorian laughed."I suppose that writes us brothers by religion, neighbors by estate. Oh, you're welcome. Allow me a moment, if you please."
Nevermind the rope idea he had in mind. Surely Dragomir would not dream of harming him now. With a new set of confidence, Dorian hopped into his bedroom, scattering snow once more over his patterned carpet. Quickly as he entered, he dashed downstairs into the Arelgren's grand kitchen to fetch his homage.
Dorian returned, this time, through the great frame of a front door, a plate of chocolate orbs clasped within his hands.
"I cooked these myself, they are clean, mind you," Dorian reassured, shifting slightly, popping a chocolate ball into his mouth and devouring it to prove its un-tainted state.
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun Feb 27, 2011 4:11 pm
Dragomir sighed quietly when Dorian confirmed the House of Obscuvos, then a bit more loudly when they were brothers. He had always wanted a brother that would drunkenly make out with him, end up being his neighbor, and offer him chocolate that he did not want only to force him to take it in order to be "polite". Who didn't, really?
Mad men, the overly sarcastic section of his mind responded instantly. Well then, the remainder of his mind, a complete a*****e, retorted, I suppose I am mad.
He shook his head, barely fighting a grimace as Dorian came back out with, indeed, a plate of chocolate. Dragomir swung the shofar to rest on his back again, worried about the snow melting under it in an abstract way that implied he somehow cared about it. More likely than not he just wanted to swing it in Dorian's direction to show him that Dragomir would clock him with it if anything happened. Hesitantly, his feminine hands darted out and took a ball of chocolate, popping it into his mouth as he shifted awkwardly from foot to foot.
He looked down - it was not bad and that infuriated Dragomir worse than if it had been horrific; at least then he would be able to claim poison and stay the hell away from him for the rest of eternity. "I'm glad they are 'clean'. I was not worried about poison or plague or any other form of dirtiness until you reaffirmed that they indeed have none. Thank you."
It was possibly the most insincere thank you Dragomir had ever had the misfortune of saying and he grimaced at how bad it sounded the moment it popped out of his mouth. He took a breath to calm himself from this near fit.
"Thank you." That was much better; he sounded much more sincere. Now for the worst part of the evening, "Do you think that you could take me to the House Meeting tonight? I do not know where it is, as I've just arrived here. That would be..."
Damning? Stupid? A waste of time? All that and so much more. "Perfect."
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Posted: Sun Feb 27, 2011 4:38 pm
Dorian stood awkwardly where he was in the snow before a sighing Meschke. He was oddly impressed by the amount of upper-arm strength the man was capable of when he swiftly returned the shofar onto his back. Truth be told, Dorian didn't remember the last time he was this friendly ever since he gave the Arrows' youngest son bread. He grinned encouragingly (though he was suddenly self-conscious) when Dragomir began to chew on the chocolate the Arelgren presented.
I wonder if Dragomir finds it suitable to his tastes.
Dorian spent unhealthy times in the kitchen when Nancy was absent, and he hoped that his experience was more than enough to win even the slightest of the other's friendship. He'd never made any friends around his age before. Linda was more of an acquaintance that was one-sidedly infatuated with him. This would be the first comrade ever since Nancy. Which was. Well. Quite a long time.
Dragomir's sarcastic responses were sufficient enough to fill Dorian's mold of a suitable friend. The man was classy (in his own talkative way), snide, and discreetly so. What a fun neighbor.
"You're welcome," Dorian chirped promptly in return. He cared not if it was sincere or not. Men were incapable of being sincere most of the time even when they meant it. At least, Nancy told him so.
"I know where it is, but it's a special night for me, so they requested that I should go alone. Something about breathing in Obscuvos's breath. Most likely wonderful."
Dorian imagined Obscuvos's mythological, ugly head burping a hideous green vapor into the Arelgren's own mouth, and he felt like gagging.
"Perhaps another time, neighbor-brother! Oh. You can keep this plate. I could always make more. Oh, the adventures we'll have!"
Before he decided to disappear, he lowered his voice into a hush, leaning forwards so that he could whisper his words into his neighbor's ear.
"I assure you I mauled your face purely due to intoxication. Any carnal favors I desire are reserved for women. As long as you don't speak of it to anyone, we are both safe from the hellion fires."
Straightening up, Dorian retreated into Arelgren House, leaving his neighbor with Winter and a plate full of chocolate orbs. He smiled crookedly to himself; it was an auspicious beginning.
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun Feb 27, 2011 5:05 pm
Time seemed to be passing quicker ever since he put that damn chocolate in his mouth; he was giving the usual, prompt reply to a thank you and then explaining why Dragomir couldn't go with him - and then was gone just as Dragomir opened his mouth to say okay and agree to staying at home that night instead of going with him to "breathe Obscuvos' breath," whatever that mean (Dragomir didn't feel as though he were missing out much on that, to be frank).
As the door closed while Dragomir thought, his brain was stuck on two things: one, that he didn't have to worry about Arelgren telling anyone about their... incident anytime soon, which was a relief; and two, neighbor-brother, really? That was all kinds of absurd. Drago didn't even know how to properly approach it, actually. He rolled his eyes, then sighed, straightening his shoulders.
At least he wouldn't have to worry about that meeting tonight. The shofar rattled in impatience on his back and Drago found himself worrying that it was moving again. He really hated that this thing moved so much - it was ancient and it made him feel as though it might be possessed by a spirit. He sighed softly, rolling his shoulders to get a jewel out of his back, then carried it inside, entirely intent on making this house feel like a home for however long he was stuck here.
He glanced over one last time to the Arelgren house and regretted it. It only made the fact that he would be stuck living next to that man for awhile. Enough to make a man sick, really.
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