Dashpuemtsu did not know the full story between those two, but what it did know was that the two went way back, and that despite her attitude, Lady Elena held a great deal of respect for Valerian.
“So, what do you think?” The Lady asked after she came back, about ten minutes later, dressed in a white shirt under a long blue military coat - the golden embroidery and pauldrons denoting some kind of officer, possibly -, black pants and riding boots. To Dashpuemtsu they looked like, well, clothes. The colours didn’t clash and weren’t aggressive on the eyes, the fabric was fine and well kept, there was nothing wrong with the outfit as far as it was aware; but it knew that that wasn’t what its mistress wanted to hear.
“Fashionably out of style, androgyny has been out of date for about…“ It paused for a moment, trying to remember. Keeping up with fashion vampire court fashion trends was a nightmare even for Dash. “… two seasons? So it’ll either be considered trend-setting by reviving an out-of-date style or nostalgic and proud of its origins.” It said and the Lady nodded, satisfied. There came a point in every vampire’s life - if they managed to survive that long, of course - that they simply stopped caring and just killed whoever insulted their fashion choices in a duel instead of trying to keep up with the present fad. Except when they followed the trends to make a statement, of course. Vampiric society was so mired in its protocols that pretty much every action and word carried its own gravitas and could mean death or war depending on the age of the vampires involved. Calling any vampire gathering a court wouldn’t be an overstatement.
“Maybe I should drop the coat, go for something more casual… But I kinda like this look.” Lady Elena mused out loud and struck a pose, clearly wanting to hear the Étranger’s opinion.
“I… think both look good.” It shrugged in answer. “I like the blue and gold contrast.” It added as it heard the Lady sigh in disappointment.
“Good. Coat it is, then!” She grinned. Dash was pretty sure she would have reached that conclusion on her own, but said nothing on the matter. “You ready?” the Étranger nodded again and together they made their way out of the house, through the gardens and onto the driveway, on which the Lady’s luxury saloon was parked. Upon seeing both of them, the driver - a human thrall who had been leaning against the hood, smoking a cigarette, - bowed deeply and held the passenger door open for the Lady while Dash made its way to the other side of the car.
The ride to Lord Valerian’s manor was quick and, helped both by the time of night and occasionally dipping into the Shroud to use its empty roads, before the turn of the hour the driver was parking in the freshly cut grass in front of the gothic mansion. A brisk walk up the steps and past the front yard saw them to the heavy wooden double doors.
As soon as Lady Elena pulled on the heavy iron knockers, the door was opened by one of Valerian’s thralls, a tanned muscular man wearing a short loincloth that left little to the imagination. They all looked pretty much the same to Dash, so to not be rude by calling them the wrong name, it avoided interacting at all.
“Lady Elena! It’s a pleasure to see you well, the Master awaits you in the ballroom, please, follow me!” He said with a genuine smile. By how he slurred his words and his wobbly steps, even Dash could tell that he was drunk, though that was no surprise since this was one of Valerian’s parties. ‘Andreas.’, Dash’s Mistress spoke on its mind. Oh, right, that was his name, it made a mental note.
The house was pretty impressive, though Dashpuemtsu found the mix of classical, renascentist and modern decorations a bit tacky, like a tasteless baroque. Other servants walked by, busy with their own tasks and even more scantily clad than their guide. Not that the Lady needed one, mind; she could find her way through Valerian’s house while blindfolded, but politely kept pace behind Andreas even with the thrall stopping to talk and tease other servants every so often. Finally the man remembered the guests and guided them to the ballroom, pushing the doors open with a deep bow before walking away.
What first hit them was the sound. Dash did not know what the hell was playing, but by the BPM, heavily electronic sound and heavier bass, it was pretty sure it was in the immediate vicinity of Trap. At first the Étranger had been surprised by Lord Valerian’s… eclectic… music taste, but now it could see how his choices made sense with his character. Kind of. It didn’t really mind this kind of music, not its favourite but not something that was annoying to listen to, but the Lady seemed definitely displeased. For an idle moment, Dash wondered if Valerian had chosen this kind of playlist on purpose. It seemed like his kind of joke. That said, Dash definitely appreciated - it would be an overstatement to call it enjoyment, but appreciation was pretty close to the feeling, - the contrast that this kind of music made with the atmosphere set by the marble floor and renascentist decoration with its high arches and columns.
The second thing they noticed was the sheer amount of people. The ballroom was pretty large, so it wasn’t like they were packed together, but it still felt uncomfortably full to Dash. Though there were a few independent humans here and there, as well as the odd werewolf or fey, most of the crowd were vampires and their thralls. They were keeping to the trend of over emphasis on sexuality, so they couldn’t be too old - as it was a mark of an older vampire like Lady Elena to ignore new fashion trends, - but they looked different enough that they couldn’t be too young either. Dash nodded to itself, glad that its prediction that this would be a Peacock Party - something for the vampires who were a bit older but not old enough to truly stand on their own to seek to impress Lord Valerian for his favours - was correct.
Most vampires stopped caring about what others - especially other vampires - thought of them as their power grew enough that they could hunt down and pulverize rivals and enemies, and as such stopped interacting so heavily with the vampire courts. While a young vampire might attend a different party every night of the week and host a few more the next - hosting a party of your own was a sign of prestige and strength, after all - an elder vampire was often too busy or preoccupied with its own unlife to attend to more than one or two a year if any. Except on special occasions, like to keep promises, reaffirm alliances and the like.
There were always exceptions to that, of course, and Lord Valerian was an interesting one. Though older than Lady Elena and widely recognized as one of the most powerful and influential vampires in the country, he was known to throw a ton of parties and assorted social gatherings, so many that someone might classify them the way a gardener classified herbs. Dash had taken it as one of its many hobbies.
It didn’t take long to find the lord as, even though he was on the shorter side, the man exuded an aura that was almost visible to the naked eye. Thickset and balding ever since Dashpuemtsu had first met him, he wore a loosely tied purple toga that left little to the imagination, just like his servants’, and a crown of laurels on his head.
“Oh, there you are, you fat oaf!” The Lady exhaled, exasperated, and though the music continued, the whole room seemed to get quiet. Vampires took their honour and their dignity very seriously, and any perceived slight could be cause for a duel to the death. Insulting someone as powerful as Lord Valerian so openly and in his own house was a death sentence.
The older vampire looked up from the wine glass in his hands in the direction of the voice and the silence seemed to extend for an eternity before he grinned and opened his arms in greeting.
“Ah, Elena, you crone! Come here!” He boomed, his voice even louder than the beat. Though Lady Elena huffed and rolled her eyes, she had a small smile on her lips as she hugged the man. One thing that Dashpuemtsu found fascinating about vampire society was that its games were so entrenched into the culture that the vampires ended playing accidentally and this moment was a great example of that. Lady Elena had no intention of reaffirming her formal alliance with Lord Valerian, but because of their shared history she had accepted to go to his party, and thanks to their familiarity they could insult each other in an almost familial manner, showing everyone present in the party their undying bond. “You too, Sour!” The Étranger sighed as it also went and hugged the vampire - out of respect for him not daring to call it Dash if nothing else. That one was for the Lady only.
“One of these days you’ll end up killing me, old fox.” The Étranger was only able to hear this through its mental link with the Lady, as Valerian whispered in her ear.
“Oh, don’t flatter me!” She answered, patting his back as he let the both of them go. Even Dash didn’t know the full story between the two of them, just that they had met back before the final decline of the Empire in a cult to Mithra, and had survived the rise of Christianity, the fall of the Empire and the Middle Ages together. Even after all this time of knowing the Lady, it wasn’t sure what kind of relationship she had with Valerian, but it seemed to be kind of paternal? At least now, anyway.
“I’m glad you showed up, it really is nice to see you two.” His genuine smile caught the Étranger a bit by surprise. It was rare to see honesty in a vampire court.
“It’s the least I could do.” The Lady retorted with a dismissive wave, though her tone showed that she had appreciated his words.
“Still, it’s refreshing to see someone intelligent once in a while!” He laughed and, after a moment, shook his head and sighed. “Alas, fools as they might be, they are still my guests and must be entertained. Will you be staying?” he sounded hopeful, and through their mental link, Dash could tell that Lady Elena hesitated for a moment before disappointing the old fool, as she often called him.
“No, Mithra’s balls, no! I’d rather go back to Hispania than listen to this infernal noise anymore than I have to.” She answered and though her offended tone was mostly fake, Dash could feel in it a sprinkle of her disdain for most forms of modern music.
“Oh, fine! At least I was able to get you out of that old house of yours for a little bit!” Valerian laughed, shaking his head. A party animal ever since he had been human, he never understood the Lady’s preference for solitude. “Take care, my dear.”
“You too, old ox.” The Lady said, touching her right breast with her left fist - a gesture that Dash vaguely recognized as one of the gestures from her particular branch of Mithraism, this one meaning respect and deference, almost as a salute but not quite as formal - and with that and an exaggerated bow, Lord Valerian left to go entertain his guests. Despite the Lady’s words, the two of them stayed for a little bit longer, mingling with whom they recognized - some of the older vampires present. But as the younger vampires started pulling clothes off and the party started turning into an orgy - Valerian was a devout of Bacchus, after all - the Lady decided that it’d be best to make their exit, and Dashpuemtsu couldn’t agree more.
The drive back home was uneventful and, due to the late hour, they didn’t even need to dip into the Shroud to drive through empty streets.
“Did you enjoy the party, Dash?” The Lady asked after she bid farewell to the driver and started walking the stone path through the garden. Dash considered that for a bit. Even though it disliked crowds and the company of others, it had to admit that this night had been quite pleasant. The music was agreeable, - though its Lady would never agree with that - the wine was good, and most important of all, its Mistress had been happy.
“I’d rather have stayed home, but it was fun.” It answered with a shrug and Lady Elena chuckled, nodding in agreement. “How about you, Mistress?”
The Lady thought about it for a bit as they climbed the stairs. “The music was horrendous.” She admitted, drawing a smile from the Étranger. “Do I have anything scheduled for tomorrow?”
“No, Mistress.” Dashpuemtsu answered after a moment recalling her schedule for the month, and the Lady grinned.
“Excellent, so tomorrow we continue the Great Work.” Dash found fascinating how, despite transcending humanity, most occult races were still mired in ambitions that at times were only too human. Its own race was an example - well, at least the younger ones. The elder Étrangers were still wholly alien, though even some of them were slowly being corrupted by their dealings with humans. - And vampires were no exception. Since they couldn’t die of natural causes, the only thing they had to fear was death itself and that often developed into their penchant for intrigue, as every other vampire was a potential threat. But this fear of death, mixed with the human ambition of achieving the impossible, reached a different height when it came to the Sun.
It was well known and demonstrably true that exposure to the Sun would destroy a vampire in a few seconds flat, but there were a myriad tales of ways to conquer this weakness - and even a couple unliving examples, though vampires that achieved this feat often hadn’t been seen in centuries, probably lost in their researches. - which had been dubbed “The Great Work”, since it was pretty much the same pursuit for immortality as that of the alchemists of old. It was dangerous and hard work, but the Sun was the one “rival” that vampires could not normally conquer, so in the end everyone that survived ended pursuing it.
“Yes, Mistress.” Dash nodded. It was impossible to know how close the Mistress was in her pursuit, of course, but the Étranger thought that they were improving by leaps and bounds, especially after creating Sharruaurata. The process had opened very interesting avenues to pursue their goal.
“Well, good night, Dash. See you tomorrow.” Lady Elena smiled and the Étranger bowed deeply, answered with its own good night and walked over to the large window in the room, closing it behind itself as it walked onto the balcony. There it allowed its stained glass wings burst through the bandages covering its body - though they didn’t seem to damage the suit at all. - and flapped them once, the lift carrying Dash to the roof in a burst that rattled the heavy windows.
Once on the roof, the Étranger walked over to an empty perch and shifted its strange flesh, taking the shape of a stone gargoyle as it often did when it went to sleep. It stayed awake for a while yet, thinking about a myriad things just like humans often did, and when it finally managed to sleep, it dreamt of the home it couldn’t ever go back to.
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