maskormenacelogs | Forever Is Our Today

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Forever Is Our Today

WHO: Dio Brando and OPEN
WHERE: Maurtia Falls apartment complex
WHEN: Mid-May, nighttime
WHAT: Dio is moving into his new place and attempting to acquaint himself with the new neighborhood.
WARNINGS: Little bit of alcohol in the second prompt, but nothing excessive. Otherwise will update as necessary!

A. Like a ~~Good~~ Bad Neighbor

It's the middle of the night, without a doubt. Dio hadn't begun moving until nightfall, after all, and getting his stuff from Nonah to Maurtia Falls had been enough of a task to take him well into the night. There's a moving van parked outside, and he was easily unloading it on his own, the vampire being a large man before you even factor in supernatural strength. Still, there was only so much one man's arms could carry at once, and so he didn't bother trying to make it in one trip, heading in and out of the apartment building in the dead of night.

Any time someone passed by, it caused the vampire to stop and look, not calling out to every passerby of course. Some people still had to sleep, and he wasn't going to start his very first night in the neighborhood with a screaming match.

If anyone should approach him, on the other hand, Dio was going to attempt to look friendly, if only to see who could possibly be aproaching someone like him in the middle of the night. The wrong kind of person could find themselves on the sharp end of his fingers, after all, and he was feeling a bit peckish anyway. The right kind of person? Well, he was in the business he'd chosen in order to make connections.

"A good evening to you, neighbor. My apologies if my activity has disturbed you." He didn't mean it, but first impressions were everything.

B. Of The Night

Well, the street outside of his apartment was hardly a place to meet people and scope out the place, so soon enough Dio would find a somewhat more lively part of the city and take to a seedier-looking bar. What he was looking for here was eavesdropping on others, as well as seeing if anyone there looked like they'd be worth the effort of speaking to. No brooding, silent types would do, but he was more than happy to take a seat beside just about anyone who was... somewhat alert. A drunk was fine, so long as they seemed sociable enough.

He would remain quiet for a moment, ordering himself a drink and looking around for a bit before turning to the person next to him with a friendly smile. "What're you having, my friend?" Of course he'd buy the person a drink in exchange for probing their mind a little.

"I've just moved to this city today. Is there anything interesting you can tell me about it?" OF course, he wasn't looking about tourist traps or anything, but he didn't want to say that outright.

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The Count hadn't intended to seek out Dio while he was moving, but chance sometimes did smile upon him while he was out on his nighttime errands. So it was when he stumbled across the vampire's new apartment.

He didn't approach at first, preferring to simply observe from the shadows and confirm that yes, this was Dio who he had spoken to on the Network. Dio who called himself a god, who was interested in law, whose aspect practically screamed of dark potential. Dio who was moving all his worldly possessions on his own in the dead of night, with strength and endurance far beyond a normal human.

But then Dio wished him a good evening, and the time for observing was past. The Count advanced out of the darkness, his voice rich with courtesy. "No disturbance at all, my friend. I was merely making sure of who you were. It is Dio, isn't it? What a pleasure to meet you in person."

Truly, he hadn't expected to hear a familiar voices greeting him from the darkness. Certainly not on his first night, but here he was, sharp ears able to pick up the voice of someone who was nearly a stranger in the somewhat old-fashioned views of a vampire from the 1800s. Setting a desk down with the same amount of finesse and effort necessary to lift a pillow, Dio was certain to part his hands against his clothes in order to be sure they were dry and without detritus as he approached the other man in kind.

"Count Dooku, is it? What a wonderful surprise to meet you in person this night", he said, sounding sincere enough, if a bit flamboyant. You get used to the flamboyance. Either way, he extended a hand, returning the Count's courtesy with his own. After all, manner were what separated them from the beasts.

"I apologize for being unready with a cup of tea and wholly underdressed, but you've caught me on my first night of residency in Maurtia Falls." This was kind of a chance meeting, but at least he was covered in sweat and half nude or something, as others might be when moving the volume that he was.

[It so happened that Dio's new home was on the route Sabriel generally took between RISE headquarters and the Porter.

It would be hard to mistake Sabriel for anything but an imPort- mostly because normal people didn't carry swords around. She didn't say anything to Dio, but despite the darkness, she was looking intently in his direction long before she got close.

She doesn't speak at first, but her movements have the easy confidence of someone who's used to defending themselves, but her expression isn't hostile or fearful- just watchful. When he speaks, she pauses a moment before replying.]

No, it hasn't. I was just heading back to the Porter from work.

Edited 2017-05-14 04:11 (UTC)

The Count closed the distance and took Dio's hand in a cool, firm grip, grateful Dio had wiped them first. He hardly wanted any sweat on his skin.

"Not to worry. If anything, I should apologize for interrupting your work," Dooku replied, eyeing the desk Dio had just set down. "Are you really handling all of this on your own? Perhaps a little assistance would make the task go faster." An aristocrat like Dooku could scarcely imagine moving homes solely on his own, even with the Dark Side at his command. That was what hirelings were for, after all.

Dio gave a light shrug, not really put off by the interruption. It wasn't as if it would really set him back any more than this whole world change already had. He too would prefer having his underlings do the work, but it was hard to find good help these days.

"Oh, it's not difficult, really. Just numerous trips. I don't mind doing it on my own", he replied, not wanting it to seem like he was struggling, or that he really needed help. Despite having been raised from 13 on as nobility, deep down he was still the urchin from the streets of London, content to take matters into his own hands. Still ,he shouldn't turn down an offer for help. "Shouldn't be much more now, but I would be thankful for the assistance. It'd make it go much more quickly, I think."

Rusty has his reasons for hanging around Maurtia Falls. Frankly speaking, he has half a mind to move both himself and his operations over to Maurtia Falls. The weather's fuck-awful in comparison - Rusty favours that sweet, sweet sunshine, thank you very much - but the people here and their lack of moral scruples is decidedly more his style. When you're surrounded by rot, somehow people don't seem to look at you quite as closely as they used to.

Of course, Maurtia Falls comes with a different problem entirely, and that's that Rusty himself is, to put it nicely, piss-poor when it comes to any type of fighting whatsoever. If you asked him, he would say that he's a lover, not a fighter, but in reality, he's neither, which is a bum deal if there's ever been one.

He looks like the perfect target for any mugger, and that would typically be the case if not for a very special set of circumstances. He lets out a loud scream of "Mugger!" in hopes that someone will help him until he pushes the mugger away, at which point five naked, undeniably moist and unfortunately pink clones spring out of thin air and trudge towards the mugger like the horrifying clone army that they are.

"Oh, Jesus Christ."

Really, Dio isn't a savior. He doesn't really care if a few people die here or there, but criminal scum makes for easy meals, so when he picks up the call that most certainly won't be answered by anyone else in the vicinity, he decides 'Eh, I could at least spectate'.

Of course, when he does, he realizes a couple of things.

1. That is Dr. Venture, who was nice enough to teach him to use his phone.

2. There are a bunch of naked pink goo dudes here.

"Oooh, you're in trouble now~" Dio called out, amused, as if this were a fight in halls of a high school that he intended to encourage. He was pretty interested in finding out more about this... thing that was happening here. "How are you doing this night, Doctor?" What, did you expect him to help you? He was just making sure he didn't get stabbed for that one night.

[Really, somehow he wasn't surprised in the least by such a strange character prowling the streets of Maurtia Falls, despite his only having just moved into the city. For one, this world was full of weirdos from any number of worlds(not that he had any kind of room to talk, the 6'4" English vampire from the 1800s who loved 80s clubbing outfits), and beside that, Maurtia Falls had a somewhat shifty reputation.

He would take it as a compliment that a woman was staring at him, anyway. He was well-muscled and working, though he didn't break a sweat, surely she was simply admiring him.]

So late at night. Doesn't bother you to be walking around here alone?

[ImPort or not, there were plenty of super-powered people around. and not all of them could be good. That was just statistically impossible.]

Where do you work that you carry a sword?

Most out here have far more cause to fear me than I have to fear them. [Sabriel's tone is slightly guarded, and her Ancelstierrian accent sounds a great deal like an English one.

At 5'10", Dio's half a foot taller than her, and far more heavily muscled- and Sabriel wishes she'd brought her bells with her. But there's no helping that now.]

I'm RISE's field commander. Have you heard of the orgnization. [Never mind that this unnaturally pale individual looks a bit too young to hold such a position.]

That's what you think.

[Dio's answer is said casually enough, but he certainly felt that imPorts who thought they had the 'best powers' were foolish. Especially since he had the best power, obviously. But that was here nor there. He lifted his brows as he looked her over.]

I have not heard of it, no. What is it?

[He needed to know, anyway. If he was to navigate this new world and it's laws, he should know more about the players on the board.]

[Sabriel has the sudden impulse to use necromancy, to show him exactly why all but the most powerful Dead creatures feared Abhorsens, and even those who didn't fear them were cautious. Instead she just smiles politely, although for an instant there's a flash of something predatory in her expression before it vanishes beneath a mild expression]

We're an organization that works with the government to police imPorts, and deal with other threats that the local police cannot handle on their own.

"Of course. You have better things to do with your time than shifting weight, I'm sure. Let's see now..."

The Count stretched out his arm and gestured upwards. There was a barely-audible thrum sound of invisible power, and then the desk floated gently into the air as though it weighed nothing. Dooku smiled.

"I will take this into the building for you, if you will only tell me your floor," he said smoothly. "And once we are inside, there is something else I'd like to talk to you about."

Now was an ideal time to extend The Offer, after doing Dio a favour. And Dooku was more certain than ever that he was a fine candidate after witnessing a taste of his raw strength.

"Indeed. There is much work to be done yet", he replied, looking on as the man lifted the desk with... telekinesis? Dio couldn't be sure, but he didn't see a Stand, so he supposed it wassimply not a power like those from his own world.

"Second floor", he said then, helpfully as he summoned his Stand, a ghostly, golden humanoid who seemed to have the same amount of trouble lifting things as Dio did, the two of them grabbing one more handful before heading upstairs once more. He didn't want to take up too much time, after all, not while he had a guest.

"I am afraid I don't really have any tea or anything currently, but I could get you a glass of wine if you would like."

The benefit of seedier bars is mainly that they often have slightly more lax attitudes to what you can and cannot bring in - which is to say, the woman that Dio turns to at the bar is not entirely alone, what might have initially looked like a remarkably furry addition to the bottom of her stool turning out to be a very large dog, lumbering slowly to his feet to nose at the stranger.

Gwen did not immediately leash him, glancing sideways from where she was scrolling through her phone; "No," but in a mild enough tone, not hostile or immediately shutting down the prospect of conversation. "A city is a city, in my experience. It has the things a city needs to have."

This might be why her job with the ambassador's office doesn't involve, for instance, the tourism board.

"You're an ImPort?"

Ugh. Dogs.

Dio was not an animal person, and just moved away a little as it drew near to him. That really did say a lot about the kind of bar that they were currently sitting in, and though he didn't care for dogs, he did like the idea that even a canine could be allowed in the building without anyone raising a fuss over it.

Well, he guessed not everyone could be knowledgeable about their surroundings.

"Yes, I'm an ImPort. Moved from Nonah", he responded, not knowing what else he could(or should) say. He had mostly been hoping for information on people to know, places to avoid(which he would immediately scope out), and any kind of rumors flitting about. He wasn't in the business of talking about himself.

"Guessing you are as well?"

It's amazing how much personal space can be had by taking an animal nearly twice your own weight everywhere with you.

If nothing else, in her apparent low-key skepticism of this friendliness and disinclination to cough up her thoughts as cheaply as for a whiskey she could buy herself, Gwen is right at home in this least welcoming of imPort cities: a snapshot of the kind of lukewarm reception he can expect. Maybe it's not how he'd intended to learn, but it's still learning, so - in a way, she's totally helping.

"I moved from Nonah as well," she concedes, turning her wrist over to display the REGISTERED tattoo that identifies her for what she is. (She'd been a little bit relieved to discover that it shows through even the illusions wrapped around her, when they're a reflex based on how she sees herself; she hasn't been here long enough for it to be there in her mind's eye, and it would have been fucking obvious if it kept vanishing and reappearing as she did and did not remember to include it.) "I can't imagine anyone relocating to America thinks, yes, North Carolina, land of dreams. Nor Pennsylvania, to be fair."

But she followed money here, so.

Dio loved the idea of fame, but being a 6'4" musclebound vampire straight out of the 1980s meant he needed to find some way not to be noticed as much. It was nice, if only because it meant that shady deals were that much easier. He wasn't exactly planning on making friends. This was a city that he'd chosen for the possible victims and the hope that his own shady dealings would be overlooked until it was far too late.

He noted her REGISTERED tattoo, not showing his own off. He was unregistered, but he didn't know what kind of implications that held aside from 'not trusting the military', so unless she goes looking for it, that's his little secret. Very little.

"Frankly, I can't imagine anyone bothering with America by choice, but we're all stuck here for the time being", he said with undisguised disgust. At least he could make it to Florida when the necessary time comes, but otherwise it was a huge inconvenience.

"A spot of wine would be most agreeable, thank you," the Count said smoothly as he entered the currently-empty apartment. He would have preferred tea, but he understood that Dio wouldn't be fully equipped for proper hospitality just yet.

He lowered his hand, and the desk slowly settled into position against the wall. The Count couldn't help but let out a silent sigh once he was no longer bearing its weight with his mind: at his age, even the power of the Dark Side could take a toll on his energies.

With his task completed, Dooku took a moment to examine Dio's ghostly, silent assistant. "And who is your friend, I wonder?" He inquired.

Dio made certain to at least have done seating set up before he would serve any wine. He was hospitable enough when he wanted to be, and as of right now he was still making his first impressions.

"Do you have a preference on kind of wine?" he asked, making his way over to the counter, where his most important groceries(booze, it was just booze) was waiting patiently to be put into a cabinet. He had various white and red wines, as well as whiskey. Not having to buy groceries meant having a lot of party money.

But when asked about his Stand, he turned his eyes to The World, looking him over as if he hadn't in some time. "This is my Stand, The World. It's a power native to my world, but rather rare here, it seems." Not overly so, there were at least two other Stand Users he knew of.

"He's not very talkative, but that's what I'm for."

"A red, I think." Because Space Dracula always had to stay on brand. Especially when visiting an actual, literal vampire.

The Count went to take a closer look at the World, regarding him as though he were a statue in a museum. He had never heard of a 'Stand' before, but he could infer the gist easily enough. "He serves you," he intoned with approval. "In battle as well as labour, I imagine."

"A wonderful choice my friend", Dio responded, going to get the bottle and glasses himself, if only so that the man could take some time to fully appreciate The World, which stood still, similarly to the statue he was being regarded as, though his head turned to look back at Count Dooku.

It didn't take Dio long to pour two glasses with some finesse, having plenty of practice at this point.

He returned shortly, offering a glass to the Count. "More or less. Though I wouldn't call it 'serving'. He's more like a subconscious part of me." Emphasizing 'subconscious' because of how the Stand gave an annoyed snort at the suggestion he was 'serving' Dio. They were the same entity, after all, none served the other, they simply shared a mind.

"What the hell are you doing up there? Help me, for God's sake!" Rusty yells, with the sort of presumptuousness that one can only cultivate after spending one's entire life being guarded by some overgrown lackey or another. Without someone, anyone to protect him, he has to say that he's a bit... limited.

His clones sure aren't. Boy, for being horrible little sticky boys, they certainly have more athleticism than him at the rate they pull at his face, as if attempting to peel his skin off.

He backs up a few steps, eyes darting back and forth. The man stabs one of the clones and it goes down, shrieking, wriggling, and bleeding. "Oh, sweet Jesus. What the hell am I supposed to do with the dead ones?"

Admittedly, this was hilarious for Dio. watching the man panic as those strange pink men seemed to attempt to defend him. It was almost like the Doctor had a Stand, albeit a wholly useless one from how it behaved.

He sighed, his lips creasing in the shape of a frown as he thinks about the man's technical prowess. Could truly be useful in the future.

"Alright, but you'll owe me." He did his job that one night, but Dio was an aspiring lawyer, not a bodyguard.

Thinning about how he could cash in on that "owe you one", Dio approached, not wasting any time before using his supernatural strength to intervene in the slime fight by straight up punching the would-be mugger. Shouldn't be enough to kill him, Dio thinks, but he wasn't going to feel good later.

"Thank you, Dio." The Count took the glass, and raised it in a little toast to his host. "To your new home, and the success of your new business. May Maurtia Falls bring you all the opportunity you desire and deserve."

The information about the World was interesteing, but Dooku did not come here to discuss the intricacies of imPort abilities. He had a different form of power in mind. He took a sip of his wine, and raised his eyebrow in appreciation.

"An excellent vintage, I must say."

"Ouch." Rusty can't help but wince in sympathy for the mugger, though not in any empathy - he just knows what it's like to take a punch like that, because he's used to getting punched horribly, and often. He never ponders why that is, because that would take more than the minimal amount of self-reflection, and that's not what Rusty's all about.

Instead, he inches forward, shoving the dead clone out of the way with his foot and peering down at the mugger before delicately brushing some invisible dust off of his jacket. "I suppose I will owe you," he says. "And thank you. I didn't want to have to deal with more than one of these dead... things."

The things crowd around him, pawing at him with sticky pink hands as if beseeching his approval, and he simply shoves them away, making a sound of disgust in the back of his throat. "Don't touch me, or else you'll end up in the river with this one."

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Forever Is Our Today

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