[ Hello weird paint death island! There is a new arrival, and he doesn't seem to have come on a boat like the others. He's certainly not dressed for being in this dingy place, either, all in white and red and gold.
He's also snuggled up under a tree, sleeping in the shade.
Verso's hovered near the southern coastline the past few days, looking out towards the waves. If he times it right, he can see the small dots of Expedition ships heralding their eventual arrival on the horizon line, and he knows that there will be another group soon upon this land, fighting to survive and to carve out a path to the Monolith.
It's too early, he knows. The luminous number on that giant stone still reads 34 rather than 33. But it'll be soon, just few days now. He feels antsy because of it.
Yet, sometime during one of these pseudo-patrols, he spies a figure beneath a tree and confusion spikes in him. How? Why? And more importantly: who? He's not dressed like an Expeditioner, that much is for sure.]
...
[He lingers in the distance like a wary cat before finally coming closer, bootsteps betraying his arrival. When he's close enough, he simply calls out:]
[ Nico keeps dozing peacefully as the stranger approaches, apparently unaware of his presence until he speaks. At which point, one crimson eye cracks open. ]
Eh? What is this? Can you not see I am trying to sleep?
Okay. That is not the retort he expected, all too casual, but Verso is just going to roll with it.
He steps just a bit closer and comes to a stop, crossing his arms.]
Well. Sorry for interrupting your cat nap, but I thought it'd be wise to point out you've chosen a very sorry place for it. There are more than a few Nevron wandering about.
[His surroundings aren't too doom and gloomy. In fact, it's somewhat pictueresque.
He observes the man, taking stock again of his clothing — unlike any he's seen before, though he has been out of the loop for a while now. His accent, at least, is somewhat familiar. even if verso sounds british]
Yes, you know, Nevrons. The creatures that like to roam about and kill passerbys.
[As you do.]
Let me guess: you went to sleep in your bed. In... Lumière?
[ This is getting stranger by the moment. He gets to his feet, brushing off his jacket and casting another look around. He makes no move to leave the shade of the tree he's found himself under. ]
Non, non, my friend. I do not know this Lumière, and I have been all over Montécarlate!
[Strange, indeed. Verso does not move from where he stands, arms still crossed over his chest, but he does track the other's movements. He doesn't seem dangerous, but one should never judge a book by its cover.]
"Montécarlate?" There is no such place here.
[His brows pinch.]
You must know Lumière. The remnants of the old city across the sea? It's the only place others like yourself come from, ending up on these shores.
[He finally uncrosses his arms to shift his weight to the other foot and rub the back of his neck. What the hell is going on here. What's with this man.]
I have a feeling that's not going to be as easy as you think, mon ami. Or did you not hear the bit about Nevron killing wayward wanderers?
[He flicks his eyes up to the sun.]
I'd say you've got about six hours left of sunlight to do your trekking, if that's what you mean.
[Verso leans in but also scrunches up his face a little when he sees those canines, which appear quite long and sharp. His expression is one of intrigue, certainly, but also "eugh those look like they can do some damage."]
I see.
[Straightens. He really should take that at face value, and maybe a part of him does, but he flashes him a little smile.]
[He startles a little, blinking, eyes wide as he glances down at the little… bat with blonde hair.]
Right. Should have expected that.
[Help. Well. This apparent vampire did deliver.]
Fine, fine. You’re a vampire that’s somehow misplaced himself here. I don’t understand how that’s possible, but if you are what you say you are, you can’t just go wandering about without a plan.
…You can’t wander about anyway in the sunlight, not without help. Need to figure out what to do with you anyway.
[ He instantly raises his hands in front of him, waving them a bit to show he means no harm. For whatever it may be worth, he seems quite earnest and a little distressed. ]
Oh, no, no, no. I would never. Rest assured, I only take what I am freely given. I will never, ever take blood from the unwilling.
french-ness intensifies
He's also snuggled up under a tree, sleeping in the shade.
It is the middle of the day.
Hmmm. ]
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Verso's hovered near the southern coastline the past few days, looking out towards the waves. If he times it right, he can see the small dots of Expedition ships heralding their eventual arrival on the horizon line, and he knows that there will be another group soon upon this land, fighting to survive and to carve out a path to the Monolith.
It's too early, he knows. The luminous number on that giant stone still reads 34 rather than 33. But it'll be soon, just few days now. He feels antsy because of it.
Yet, sometime during one of these pseudo-patrols, he spies a figure beneath a tree and confusion spikes in him. How? Why? And more importantly: who? He's not dressed like an Expeditioner, that much is for sure.]
...
[He lingers in the distance like a wary cat before finally coming closer, bootsteps betraying his arrival. When he's close enough, he simply calls out:]
Er, hello?
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Eh? What is this? Can you not see I am trying to sleep?
[ Okay??? ]
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Okay. That is not the retort he expected, all too casual, but Verso is just going to roll with it.
He steps just a bit closer and comes to a stop, crossing his arms.]
Well. Sorry for interrupting your cat nap, but I thought it'd be wise to point out you've chosen a very sorry place for it. There are more than a few Nevron wandering about.
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[ There's a new word. Nico sits up fully, eyes open and scanning his surroundings. ]
Oh... this is not where I went to sleep.
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He observes the man, taking stock again of his clothing — unlike any he's seen before, though he has been out of the loop for a while now. His accent, at least, is somewhat familiar.
even if verso sounds british]Yes, you know, Nevrons. The creatures that like to roam about and kill passerbys.
[As you do.]
Let me guess: you went to sleep in your bed. In... Lumière?
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We don't worry about the accent thing.]I am afraid I do not know.
[ This is getting stranger by the moment. He gets to his feet, brushing off his jacket and casting another look around. He makes no move to leave the shade of the tree he's found himself under. ]
Non, non, my friend. I do not know this Lumière, and I have been all over Montécarlate!
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"Montécarlate?" There is no such place here.
[His brows pinch.]
You must know Lumière. The remnants of the old city across the sea? It's the only place others like yourself come from, ending up on these shores.
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[ He seems far too nonchalant about this. ]
Perhaps I have been kidnapped!
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Perhaps. Or perhaps you've hit yourself too hard on the head.
[Did Clea send him here...?]
You don't seem very worried, either way.
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[ He puffs up a little, quite sure of himself and looking almost like he's going to march right into the wilderness to do just that.
He deflates a split second later. ]
Though... how much longer will it be daylight?
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[He finally uncrosses his arms to shift his weight to the other foot and rub the back of his neck. What the hell is going on here. What's with this man.]
I have a feeling that's not going to be as easy as you think, mon ami. Or did you not hear the bit about Nevron killing wayward wanderers?
[He flicks his eyes up to the sun.]
I'd say you've got about six hours left of sunlight to do your trekking, if that's what you mean.
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[ He puffs up again, just a little. ]
Ah, no. You misunderstand. If I step foot in the sunlight, I will burst into flames and most certainly die.
[ ????? SORRY HE'S LIKE THIS. ]
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...Sorry. What?
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[ Like it's the most obvious thing in the world.
Though, after a beat, ]
I am a vampire.
[ DOES THIS HELP ]
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Vampires aren't real.
[There is an irony to the statement being spoken in fantasy paint island.]
Or rather, there certainly never ever has been one here. Prove it.
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That is a very rude thing to say right to my face! But, if you insist!
[ He opens his mouth a little more, fully exposing elongated canines. ]
I can also turn into a bat, if it pleases you.
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I see.
[Straightens. He really should take that at face value, and maybe a part of him does, but he flashes him a little smile.]
But you can't just say that and not do it for me.
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[ There is no warning, just a flash of crimson, and fluttering in Nico's place is a tiny, brown vampire bat with a shock of blonde on its forehead. ]
Ta-da!
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Right. Should have expected that.
[Help. Well. This apparent vampire did deliver.]
Fine, fine. You’re a vampire that’s somehow misplaced himself here. I don’t understand how that’s possible, but if you are what you say you are, you can’t just go wandering about without a plan.
…You can’t wander about anyway in the sunlight, not without help. Need to figure out what to do with you anyway.
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[ Citation needed. ]
Do you have a pouch or a pocket I can ride in while it is still light outside?
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It wouldn't be very practical for a man like me not to have at least a couple of pockets in his uniform. I can spare one for a... bat.
[A tiny. Vampire bat. Today is turning out to be more eventful than anticipated. Verso holds up a finger.]
There is one matter that needs clarifying, though.
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But of course, friend. What is it?
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[He says it casually, almost jokingly, but it seems wise to ask.]
Not that I know about vampires, but the whole "enjoy dining on humans" part is a known universal trait, isn't it?
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Oh, no, no, no. I would never. Rest assured, I only take what I am freely given. I will never, ever take blood from the unwilling.
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