College Vamp

Abroad [Part 1] (EDITED)

Friday, 3:23 am (EEST)

"And Joseph here was worried we'd be late."

Joseph held his best content smile, finding himself the topic of the conversation by Lord Aaric. They sat in their designated spot at the long brown dining table inside Dracula's castle. The stone and wooden walls were decorated in portraits and long curtains. Around him sat lords from around the world and their accompanying visors. He and Aaric sat several seats from the end of the table next to the large mantle. A trio of royal chairs sat there, pushed in. Each with an empty plate and glass. A large portrait of Dracula dressed in a maroon uniform and purple cape hung about the mantle. The frame was illuminated by two candle lights on both sides.

The lords Aaric engaged with were seated across from him, drinking from their chalices and laughing at the old man's remark. Their sphere of conversation was one of many filling the dining hall with anecdotes and official business.

"Well, it's good you made it in a timely manner, Aaric," One lord noted.

"Tonight's meeting is of the utmost importance," Another remarked.

"Yes. Yes. No doubt the very fabric of our way of life is on the line as we drink to our thirst," Aaric remarked, gesturing to the imposing man next to him. "See? Benguard's uniform has a new patch on it. An omen, I dare say!"

The lords didn't give an initial response but did little to conceal their laughter.

"Well, it's nice to hear you haven't lost your wit, Aaric." chuckled Benguard. Even sitting, the man easily towered over most at the table, his bulky frame wrapped up in a well-tailored uniform decorated in the royal family crest and other regional patches.

"Well, wit is all that an old man like me has left," Aaric proclaimed, grabbing his collar and puffing up his chest out. "And if I do say so myself, wit is like wine: where would we be without it?"

"Well Lord Aaric, as much as some appreciate the jovialness," A lord next to Benguard kindly suggested. "It might be good to show some restraint for the time being."

"Unfortunately, I have to agree." The first confessed, stifling his laughter away. "We are still dealing with...unique circumstances."

Joseph stepped in. "I agree as well."

Aaric turned to him, perplexed. He could feel all their gazes falling on him in mere seconds. He gently sat his silverware down, looking up to address them.

"I mean no offense by that, my Lord. However, not everyone here would deem it appropriate, given the circumstances."

"Joseph, telling an old man not to be witty is like-like," Benguard asserted, picking up his chalice while he pondered a comparison. "Like telling the taxman that he's a saint."

Aaric whirled around, pointing at him ecstatically. "Ah! A man after my own stand-up."

Benguard smirked. "Did you bring the rest this evening, Aaric?"

"Of course I did! I even brought a cheer you should teach to your men."

Before Joseph could stop him, Aaric was on his feet and jovially swinging his arms from side to side. "Rat Shit, Bat Shit, Dirty Old Twat! Sixty Nine-"

Before he could finish his Carlin impression, the large pair of doors down to their right swung open. Everyone at the table sat up at attention. Their gazes went to the woman standing in the doorway. Her blonde hair braided in a tail draped over her shoulder. She wore a tan, royal dress and purple cape that dragged across the floor. Two guards stood at her sides dressed in uniforms much like Benguard's, bearing the same royal crest.