Velvet Blue - In the Dog Haus

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Description: Velvet comes over the Ancestral home of Baron Von Sabrewulf for... cleaning up? Chaos ensues.

It is a dark and stormy night... well, there's no rain, but there is wind, and possibly some thunder and lightning. Depending on how you like it. While the lord of the estate is busy attending to SECRET WEREWOLF RESEARCH deep in his hidden lab environs, there is a rather disturbing sound coming from the corridors of the rather large mansion.


It is a loud, mechanical droning sound, followed by what sound like clacking, thumping footsteps. Good god man, is someone out in the hallway with a frickin' zamboni?! That kind of mechanical droning noise is the worst thing imaginable, especially if you're a cat... or maybe a dog?

Turns out it's Velvet, listening to an mp3 player with earbuds while they push what looks to be an industrial grade vacuum cleaner emitting pressurized air, about probably the only thing that will scratch the surface of the dirt and dust in this place's carpets! They're rather absorbed in this dask, faintly singing along with the song they're playing over their earbuds and not likely realizing they're using a bit of power, which Konrad probably needs the most of in his lab! Ruh roh!

As usual, the thumping and clacking comes from the white wedge heeled boots they're usually wearing, which is combined with some dark trousers and one of their old band-tshirts, covered with a white grubby apron. What, you were expecting French Maid? In your dreams~

The Sabrewulf Estate certainly seems to be otherwise abandoned. Its owner shows no immediate presence and nobody else is daring enough to intrude in the creepy place. The rumors and taboo about the property and the surrounding woodland hold well even amongst the modern age of technology. While some bravery might be manageable during the day in the mountain countryside, the darkness brought about by nighttime also brings to life the stirring shadows that haunt the area.

Most people simply Nope right the hell out of there.

As it is, though, the mansion is undefended and unlocked. The halls and rooms visited may actually have light cast upon them from house fixtures for the first time in a long time. While main walkways throughout the building stay somewhat swept and relatively clean, the accumulation of dust upon most unused furniture, atop the frames of paintings and shelves, are just as notable as the shed inhuman hair that tends to clump about and hide away.

This place is the den of a wild animal. It not only looks the part, but smells it, too. It's not an unclean smell, though. There's just an edge of wilderness that permeates the general scent of the mansion's interior that helps to color the general atmosphere as a potentially dangerous place to be. This hasn't changed since Velvet's first visit, although there seems to be a furthered deterioration -- likely due to the extended absence of the Lord himself -- that lends to a notion of needing cleaning. Clearly, this is being acted upon.

There is little repercussion to the cleaning at first. The electrical grid seems stable enough. A few appliances in the kitchen run to keep foodthings preserved, but that's about all that is needed to stay on. The draw is low. The use of a single vacuum cleaner would hardly ever cause trouble, but there is a bit of a hiccup to that logic:

The lights flicker a bit, dimming overall, and the hum of the cleaner notably drops in pitch due to the lowered amount of power. Somewhere unseen, but somehow close enough that the effects can be felt throughout the mansion, a faint electromagnetic pulse ripples harmlessly through followed by the smell and taste of ozone. The lights dim even more immediately following, there is a greater sudden draw on the electrical grid that sounds like distant crackling lightning, and then...!

And then the power goes out as breakers are tripped and fuses are blown. The house is cast into total silence. Not even the refrigerator operates.

Well, the Sabrewulf estate /would/ seem abandoned, if it weren't for the small VU Beetle that's parked outside of it, and the lights Velvet had on. How the hell did that thing even make it up the hills or mountain, with or without that huge industrial-sized vacuum strapped to the roof? These are /questions/ the Lord of the Manor will have to have answered.

As it turns out, the night that Konrad decided to do his forbidden alchemy experiments was the same as when the Werewolf's plucky and luxurious performer friend had decided to come pay a visit! As the vacuum rolls along, Velvet has to pause momentarily to reach down... and pluck what looks like a nearly softball-sized clump of what had to be dog hair off the floor.

"Jesus Christ, it's a kennel owner's worst nightmare--" it's then that the power goes out, and the vacuum shuts off. So do all the lights.

"Oh, shit--" and Velvet is left scrambling about through his pockets, pulling out what appears to be... a sea blue light-up glowstick? Like the kind one might have in a rave club? It does however bathe the immediate area in a weird, eerie light--like a cosmopolitan St. Elmo's Fire.

"The basement, shit--are there vampires down there? Do vampires and werewolves even get /along/? The old RPG books he found at a Goodwill says 'hell no', but you never know. Velvet has run into vampires in the weirdest places before.

Somewhere else in the oversized building full of many large rooms, there is a very clear sound of something creaking open before shutting loudly. Whatever it is is very heavy, so the bass-laden tone easily thumps throughout the home through the walls rather than down the halls. What -can- be heard down the hallways from some other location in the mansion is just a bit of growly muttering.

On the plus side, this likely means that it's not a vampire (the argument for that can go either way) and it may mean that the land owner is home and has not gone on vacation or some type of scholarly excursion to another country. On the negative side, it may mean that the land owner is home and has not gone on vacation or some type of scholarly excursion to another country and is the one being growly. This clue of noise is short-lived, however, and immediately cuts off the moment an uninvited intruder is smelled. Also, well, vacuuming leaves a certain lingering smell, too. Silence fully resumes. Mostly.

Clicking noises can be heard every now and then as something moves about in the building quickly. Above? To one side? To the other direction? Old mansions have secret passageways, don't they? Or is that just some fantastic myth? Then again, would a family of werewolf hunters have secret passages in their Clan Home? ...probably.

There's a good chance that Velvet may catch a fleeting glimpse of two glowing red eyes at the far end of some hall quickly disappearing to the side out of sight.

Velvet cants his head this way and that. Bats do this, to isolate where noises are coming from--and Velvet is doing it too right now, the bat ears he possesses should be a dead give away why. Clicking and clacking of a different color, it would appear--not that of stiletto heels, not unless he was rubbing off on Konrat already--no, this was a different kind of sound. The sort of noise a dog makes when it hasn't had it's claws trimmed for quite some time comes to mind, walking against linoleum.. or wood.

Suddenly, there is a dark shape moving in the darkness--too fast and dark to see, even with the darkstalker augmented vision the performer is endowed with. And red eyes in the dark. Was it anyone he knew? Well, who else was he expecting? Michael Jackson? There were no 'heehee's coming from the dark. At least not yet.

"You there?" as if the scent of Velvet wasn't enough for someone with superhuman senses to detect, there was the soft but masculine and oh so melodic voice in the dark, as well.

The turbulent air outside lends to some brief moments of illumination as the light given off by cloud-to-cloud lightning manages to find its way through the clouds, through mansion windows, and through any open doors to those rooms. This no doubt reveals more shadowy presence, maybe even a quick silhouette of a certain bestial figure, but there is no verbal reply. The tippity-tappity of claws against the flooring also ceases. There may be a bit of danger sense as to this change: this is the feeling one gets when they are being stalked and hunted. No sound of footsteps, no sound of breathing, no hint of glowing eyes, and no immediate moving shadows in the darkness. It's a tangible suspense that is often portrayed in slasher films before the monster strikes. It's a moment of discomfort, usually, in the face of unknown danger...although this danger is fairly well known compared to what others know.


The whine of the vacuum cuts back in as the lights snap back on the moment the mansion's unreliably old backup generator cuts on and supplies power meant for a laboratory to the meager demands of the mansion itself. This immediately reveals the dark blue-furred werewolf creeping along almost flat upon the floor very nearly upon the Darkstalker!

The sound of the vacuum, coming from the device very near where Konrad's wild form prowls closer, causes the beastman to lurch away, startled, toward a nearby doorway, miss the door altogether to slam firmly against the wall (which rattles the walls paintings), before scrambling to exit through the portal. A few fresh claw marks are left behind in this hurry while the image itself might be both horrifying and insanely amusing...depending on how one chooses to address it.

The room's door remains open. The lights within are off. Red eyes peer toward the door from the far side. That room has no secret exits. The wolf's shadowy shape stands stark before the window behind him as flashes of lightning glow now and again. "Um was geht es hierbei?" comes a growled question in wolven German demanding an explanation.

As the light comes back on, Velvet looks up with a bit of a jump as well--both from the sudden influx of light--but also the noise behind him. However, as luck would have it--it also has the same effect a vacuum cleaner has on a house cat on werewolves--who knew!

"Ayyy---were you sneaking up on me to pounce?!" Velvet says, their eyes turning to cat-like slit-pupils for a moment (chiefly due to the sudden bright light) before returning to normal as Velvet moves over to turn the lights down.

"I mean, I figured you'd have been hard up for men, buuut~" Velvet snickers, following along, before he realizes the Sabrewuff is out of sight again. He stands in the doorway of the room the shape seemed to have loped into, hands on either side of it.

"Well, yeah, and speaking of hairballs--how you doign there, Konrad? I see we're letting out wild and wooley self out there again, did you miss me? Decided to stop by and figured I'd surprise you by cleaning the place up--you might want to install some locks on this place, y'know," Velvet thinks about it a moment.

"Or well, maybe you don't."

The wolfman stands there in the dark of the room while light spills in from the hall and the vacuum continues to make that dreadful whine. The beast's ears are lain back, lips peeled into a silent snarl, while saliva drips from those exposed teeth to splatter against the floor drip after ribboned drip.

"Du betrittst mein Zuhause? Ohne Einladung." Nope, he's still speaking German. "Dies ist meine Domain. Mein Territorium!" His deep rumbly voice displays more than a certain amount of irritation aaaaand he takes a step closer. "Alle, die dieses Land betreten, mussen den Tod willkommen heissen." Another step. "Wer bist du fur mich?" Another step and he's not shutting up yet. "Ist es ein Kampf, den Sie suchen?!" And Konrad begins to crouch while his fingers spread, claws at the ready, preparing to leap-

But, suddenly, those dangerous hands move to his face as if fighting a mental onslaught. Sabrewulf growls deeply as his head jerks about in his hold. "Nein noch nicht. No." With a double-thump, the wolf falls to his knees. The notion of aggression seems to be mostly abated. This is, no doubt, why his staff all fled. "No no no. Why did you return?" asks the werewolf without uncovering his face or letting go of his head. "I- I admire your kindness, but it is best used on those with more hope. More...control."

Konrad sounds more, well, remorseful now. He isn't ungrateful. "Turn off that noise, bitte." Evil evil vacuum cleaner noises. "Then... I think I can talk."

It is a bit surreal to see the giant wolf man, and it is a wolf--dog-like face with muzzle and all--speaking to him ina foreign language, like you just stumbled over a strange piece of animation from another country--German, of all things, at him. In the dark.

"Tod is welcome here? Who is that? Did you get a new housekeeper?" Velvet is momentarily confused, though with Konrad's ranting and rambling it's reminding him of a furry cross between angry german kid, or maybe Bruno Ganz in Das Untergang. The language is very melodic but Velvet had taken Spanish and French in highschool, instead--so his understanding of it was poor. Really it just sort of ran together.

"Do you need a tylenol--also gawd--what did you do to your clothes?? Gonna have to mark some new polyester shirts on the list of things for ya," he tilted his head at the werewolf's question.

"Well, because the place was filthy, duh--" he paused, before realizing OH RIGHT, he left the floor cleaner on.

"One moment--" Velvet dashed off to get to the industrial strength vacuum, the sound cuts out, and he returns, looking for a lightswitch. The place /did/ have electricity, when it wasn't blowing a fuse anyway. Damn antiquated wiring in there--Velvet would have to see who he could bribe to look at it.

"So, getting all fuzzy and free on us? you still blacking out when that happens?"

It's true. The tattered remains of once expensive clothing have been shredded and tattered from the change from man into wolfman, along with clear claw markings -- likely where the beast himself tore at the fabric to rid it if it got in the way of his work. Upon Velvet's return, Sabrewulf no longer remains kneeling on the floor, but has instead taken to sitting on a dusty armchair in the long unused room that has only stirred up all the more dust.

"That depends," replies the fully-furred creature. As before, his accent is lost with English in this form leaving the unnatural sound of his voice to be the only complication in understanding. "Although I remember plans for tea tonight, as I do on most Mondays." It's not Monday. " would seem other plans 'came up'."

Konrad in this altered shape seems to be a lot more twitchy than he was before. Literally. It's not just thinks like his ears; no, he has various other muscle spasms that 'tic' from time to time as he sits there. It's not normal. It's like there's something literally caged in his flesh fighting to be free. That might speak volumes about what self control he maintains. Or, well, his lack thereof and how dangerous that makes this encounter despite its otherwise amusing properties.

"It IS still Monday, ja?"

"Maybe we could work on the pipes in here too, you know--get some better central heating going, so you aren't always sitting around in fancy clothes when that happens," Velvet clucks his tongue. He's not sure quite how that keeps happening, just that the werewolf seems to be having a harder and harder time controlling his shapeshifting.

"It's Wednesday," Velvet responds, tilting his head this way and that, as if trying to discern where various noises are coming from. He almost did it without thinking, sometimes.

"You need to stop shooting yourself up with that shit, it's turning your mind into mush," Velvet scolds, "No wonder you can't tell what day it is, you gotta see if there's some way you can live with this," Velvet points at Sabrewulf again to enunciate the point, at the werewolf that was trying to sit cross-legged in an overstuffed chair.

"Tell me, what are you thinking right now? What's the dog mind telling you to do?"

"Wednesday. Mein Gott."

That explains a lot of the irritation involved, then. He hasn't eaten in nearly three days, so absorbed has he been poring over alchemical formulae, and the beast is very hungry. The beast is also very snappy. This point is punctuated by a click of the teeth together in a very loud CLACK as the glowing-eyed werewolf takes offense at the criticism of using his Clan's life work. "Du weisst nichts!"

A rumble from the throat prefixes a slowly spoken, "Let me make this perfectly clear. What I use is the /only/ thing allowing me to hold on to what humanity I have left until I can figure out how to rid myself of... This." Sabrewulf uses the same point of subject in this reply. "If you happen to know of some other way, please, feel free to speak up about it.

Overall, though, it is a rather pathetic sight. There sits a man trapped behind the form of a beast that wants nothing to do with it and, despite his best efforts, every attempt to remain human results in shattered hopes and tattered clothing. "I... I shouldn't try to think about what the wolf wants for worry that it might overtake me fully again." He follows with words that sound very slow and strained, "You do not understand how tiring it is to hold it back like this."

"This is my house, but it has lain claim to my land. It has stolen away my body and strips away my will and you now stand in its lair. My.../hospitality/ and understanding are not enough to shield my guests of its fury." A level stare is given to Velvet and, for a moment, one might almost sense Konrad behind those otherworldly glowing red eyes. "But I will try until my will and body are gone forever, because I /must/." It's a blanket statement.

Sabrewulf head-shakes next. "As for the chill of the house, well, it feels better. You don't know how hot this body gets with all of its hair and, and, ruthless brutality..." Canines do have higher body temperatures.

"You've been so worried and trying to artificially 'cure' this problem you're actually making it worse, you realize," Velvet sighs a little, shaking his head. After two days without food, Velvet too would be trying to kick down the door of a bar and grill, no doubt.

"And don't grind your teeth, it's bad for them," Velvet pauses. "I think," do werewolves regenerate lost teeth too? He wasn't about to test that. The dental fees would be immense if it turned out negative.

"Why rid yourself of it? You look kinda cute--you know, when you're not gnashing your teeth and growling at people," Velvet waggled his finger.

"I've got an idea, how about I go down to the larder, and grill you up a ham haunch to nibble on, hmm?" Velvet realizes Konrad probably calls his pantry something like 'conservatory' or something else blue-blooded and old fashioned like that, but he's not about to agitate the wolf anymore.

"That's true, it's probably like wearing a fur coat for you, been a while since I wore one of those--don't ask, lets see here..." Velvet moves to head out of the room. He can recall where the kitchen was, he ate there one morning already.

That blue gray-furred werewolf has another one of those bizarre muscle spasms the results in one foot stomping to the floor while a handful of claws grip the armrest of the chair so hard that they puncture the upholstery with ripping sounds. "That is MY food!" objects the beast in what might seem irrational compared to the offer given.

He doesn't actually rise from the seat, though. He just sort of...stares while breathing harder, at least up until the point where some sense of self overtakes the protectiveness of personal food stores and overrides that territorial animalistic behavior allowing Sabrewulf to relax his clawed grip on the seat and wave with the other hand. "Yes. Yes, please do. At the very least you can use it as bait if you need to flee." Was that actually a joke, or...?

"Perhaps we can discuss my disgust when my stronger half is not more inclined to make a mess of my walls and floor, but is it not apparent?"

"Yeah, I know Cujo, I'll be right back," Velvet's boots can be heard down the hall, finally growing faint as they traipse even deeper into the Von Sabrewuff mansion, and then far off in the distance the werewolf could possibly hear the 'ticking' of the pilot light of the oven. It would take a while, to be sure--after some clattering around the kitchen, a haunch of ham is indeed found and placed into the oven. It's literally a whole spiral sliced ham. It should work, anyway. Some clove, no honey or pineapple as a glaze, however--Velvet somehow that would be healthy for Konrad in his present more canine state--or was it lupine?--there was some bacon wrapped around it though, just for good measure. Thank god for ample supply of pork products--that's the one good thing humans have done, anyway.

A short time later, the queen returns, apron still on, but now wearing a pair of oven mitts, as they bring out a large covered silver platter, finding a small table to put the roast ham on the table, unlidding it.

"There we go, all for you, I'm sure you can afford more later," Velvet steps back and leans against the doorway, having put the lights on and just sort of watching what happens.

"You haven't been gnashing or trying to chase cars while I was gone, I think there is room for improvement."

As timing has it, Velvet's return takes just a little longer to happen than Konrad's.

During the baking session, the wolf doesn't quite stay put. Rather, Sabrewulf exits the room in a slow bipedal walk before dropping to all fours to lope down the hallway. Passing the inactive vacuum cleaner, though, he growls a quick, "Schweigen," at it while continuing on his way.

The truth of the matter is that the backup power won't last forever. Normally the laboratory's equipment wouldn't cause such a strain, but some of the wiring has been replaced and patched up over the years and it isn't the best and it's not like he can just hire an electrician to come repair things for him.

His trip takes him to the utility room where he's able to examine to state of the breakers and fuses. It's not the first time this has happened. It, eh, probably won't be the last. Replacing fuses and reseting breakers allows him to turn back on the main power for the house -- the lights that are on noticeably brighten.

With some time to spare, he figures, he drops by one of the mansion's lavatories for a moment to freshen up. This bout of activity is accompanied by a lot of internalized thought. He tears the remnants of his shirt and waistcoat from his torso and leaves the fabric upon the floor. This...exposes the track marks on his left arm, but also reveals the golden bands he wears. While washing his hands and rinsing his face and whiskers with water from his cupped hands, his eyes settle upon his image in the mirror sitting over the basin. The mutual gaze locks and, for a moment, there is just a moment of multifaceted reflection.

Turning away, the beast at least dries his hands and face with a proper towel (although a touch dusty at this point, too) before wandering back to the makeshift sitting room...and sits. Velvet shows -- an arrival known ahead of time by sound and smell -- and presents food. While Sabrewulf inevitably begins to drool, he doesn't dig in just yet. Rather, his gaze turns from the meat to the one standing at the door.

"So. Are you honestly telling me you came all the way out here...just to clean house and cook food? You /do/ know that I'm not hiring new help, ja?"

"No, was more thinking of you stuck out here, shooting yourself full of green goo," Velvet replies, once he finally realizes that the wolf had stepped out for a moment. That must have been what was going on with the power, that is.

"You and your wolf problem, and all--I thought I might offer support, and all that. I took getting turned into a darkstalker pretty well, after a time, that is," Velvet gestured to himself, with a shrug. "Some of us deal with it in different ways, of course, this is how I did," he ran a hand over his body, a flamboyant sort of air to it.

"I think maybe Konrad Von Sabrewulf isn't getting to know his otherself as much as he'd like--maybe you could have controlled your predatory instincts if you had taken care of your basic needs for food and prevented yourself from blacking out...?" he paused. "I'm just guessing over here, I'm not a doctor, though I was trained to be a vet, didn't really have a choice--it was do that or be tortured, you however got a choice," he leans against the doorway still, arms crossed.

The meat sitting there is extremely tempting. Reaching over, claws dig in to tear some of the meat away in a display of ease that is probably very terrifying if thought about too hard. "You don't understand. I mean, how could you? How could...anyone, for that matter?" That handful of savory flesh is waved in Velvet's direction. "You think I am just some man that has randomly and unfortunately been afflicted with a terrible disease, a curse."

While drooling more, Sabrewulf upturns his palm to hold the chunk of hot pork there to 'examine' it. "For how long, then, do you think I have been dealing with this, hidden away like this, toiling away like this? Four, five months? A year? Two? ...five? ...ten?" The wet chewing that follows as the beastman snaps up the meat might be a touch disgusting to some, but such is the nature of having that build of face and those teeth.

Sabrewulf reaches over to tear off another piece. "Am I just some rich man with old money living in the middle of nowhere that has lost my glory and 'fun'? At the risk of being rude, please, do dig into the well of experience you possess and share. You tracked me down with but a cufflink. Did you learn anything else at all?" Fingers crush that meat as his words grow a little more bitter; it winds up becoming a bit of a fibrous paste. This...doesn't exactly stop the werewolf from licking it clean from his hand afterward, though.

"Because I wasn't born like this, either--I was altered, against my will," Velvet gestured to himself, shaking his head. "I am not originally from Makai, I have a social security number, a birth certificate, a human name--but that's not important right now, all that is is making sure you can control yourself so that you don't do something you might regret," Velvet pauses. "Yeah?" he tilts his head, answering Konrad's question about being afflicted with a curse. His response was perhaps too casual given the weight of it, but still sincere when coming from the performer. Velvet watches the werewolf inspect the ham, wondering if the low power earlier hadn't somehow left part of it underdone. Oh well, he was a wolf--that sort of thing didn't hurt them, right?

"Yeah, I learned you're already an expert at feeling sorry for yourself and making excuses," Velvet grinned a little, shaking his head. "You need to master your condition, or it WILL master you, as for me--I'm on a coffee break, might go break in one of those fancy beds you got down there as well, at least in the guest room you had me in," he waggled his fingers at Konrad as he headed out of the room.

"Bon appetite~"

Log created on 16:58:34 02/27/2019 by Velvet Blue, and last modified on 22:41:00 02/27/2019.