Trails of Blood and Wine

Dettlaff van der Eretein, affiliated with Fate/Stain Lens

[beauclairbeast-blog]

gekkounoken:

“you wish to fight?”

so far this city had been rather peaceful, she hadn’t actually seen anyone fighting, despite what the grail had commanded.

this man was dangerous, one look at him could tell her that.  someone like that could not be allowed to roam free, let alone achieve the grail.

“then I will oblige you”

she pulled the small crystal from underneath her uniform before beginning to sing

“Imyuteus Ame no Habakiri Tron “

almost instantly her symphogear appeared.  blade pointed at the man in front of her, she spoke

“I, Saber, will strike you down”

   “.....Hmph.”

Though Dettlaff could clearly hear the music, he ignored it. It rang out around him, a single point of drab grayness. The Servant could only conclude this was no siren song, but rather something to strengthen his newfound enemy, give them energy.

It was true, he had wished for a fight, consciously or no. His growing frustration at the lack of conflict felt more primal than anything else; not part of his true self, yet ingrained deep in his soul anyhow. The one he faced now was an enemy unlike any he’d ever seen, her armor bizarre, her entire being foreign to him, save human features he knew better than most could be replicated.

   “....Tesham Mutna.” He growled the words under his breath, to himself, and changed. His face melted naturally into a more honest replication of his true self, sharpened fangs and twisted features, while his claws extended to at least two feet in length each. Clattering against one another, they revealed the durability of steel, or perhaps something even harder.

   “I am Avenger. If you would fight me, then come!” He yelled now over the music, taking a defiant stance. “You are more beast than others, and for that you have my respect -- now show me your strength!”

[beauclairbeast-blog]

panthermask:

     why do so many people like to come up to her and warn her about what’s going on? in some circumstances, they may have good intentions telling her to be cautious—but seriously, is this a common theme in reality just as much as it is in video games? it’s so weird. it isn’t as if she wants to be in this world in the first place; though it isn’t as if she’s being wary after being transported here. … okay, maybe they do have a point.

     ❛   … child of spring?   ❜   she repeats with hesitation, finding this guy to be extremely suspicious and sketchy. he seems like he could definitely be a part of the yakuza, especially with how he talks! who even talks like that in the modern world?! she takes a cautious and defensive step against him, one hand clutching her other arm in a subconsciously defensive manner.   ❛   if i could leave, i would! but i can’t figure out how to get out of here, and none of those voices are answering me. and if i’m stuck here, i really don’t want to fight other people unless i have to.   ❜   especially not against people who have little issue saying that they’ll just outright murder someone. how terrifying.

Dettlaff, of course, had come with no particular good intentions on this day. Even now, he was struggling to contain himself and his own instincts; both as a vampire and as a Servant. Perhaps it was because of his class, but his murderous desires seemed stronger, more acute than ever, as though they were all that ruled him...was this what it meant to be summoned from a legend of one’s self?

For a moment, his rage was replaced by sadness. Was this...how he would be remembered in his own time, his own world? An enraged beast who massacred without discrimination...? Then, refusing to think any more on it, he turned back to the girl. But a child. For a moment, he seemed to remember another story about himself, but it was just a phantasm. But even so, he felt his anger softening.

   “As a Servant, I was called to fight...but it seems that fate conspires against me.” She moved like a cornered cat, he thought with a bit of humor, not budging an inch himself. It’s so difficult to hide your fear when you are but a child. This time, a twinge of pity. “...You seem to know so little about this world...it is frightfully sad to see people such as you in a world like this. If I could, I would wish it otherwise.”

[beauclairbeast-blog]

casterofturnabout:

“E-Eh? Who s-said anything about us fighting against each other?!” Phoenix quickly replies. A part of him is relieved that the seemingly terrifying creature is at least capable of speaking (which means reasoning), but he sure doesn’t enjoy his belic tendencies.

“They said that there WAS a history of Servants fighting each other, but that it’s not the case here! I, in particular, would much rather limit fights to courtroom discussions.”

(And even those have sometimes been more threatening to me than I’d prefer. I sure hope that this place doesn’t have anything like the Defense Culpability Act…)

For a second, Dettlaff growled in displeasure, and it almost seemed as if he was about to jump on the man, claws extended without further warning. But instead, he controlled himself, his blue eyes somewhat dimming in intensity, his form completely indistinguishable from a human’s now.

   “...The Grail called on me to fight, yet I meet none who will face me. Perhaps I am being too anxious...how irritating.”

His voice now sounded less threatening and more...frustrated. The voice of a man without purpose. The Avenger’s eyes wandered, almost seeming for a moment like he’d completely lost interest in the man in front of him; then, without warning, he turned back to face him.

   “Who are you? Some sort of nobleman? No wonder there is no fighting...your human beaurocracies never failed to lose my attention.”

[beauclairbeast-blog]

@enwomb

It was disquieting.

Every time Dettlaff looked at the woman, he found himself growing angrier. This world wasn’t right. He wasn’t right. Nothing was right, and it was almost enough to set his inner rage out of control. The Avenger fought himself tooth and nail not to go on a rampage.

Of course, this reaction was only caused by the fact that she was his Master.

   “...Allow me to speak.” He’d refused to talk until then, making that statement rather ironic. Even so, the vampire had learned the intricacies of acting the gentleman. 700 years, maybe more, had forced him to learn that much.

   “I do not care for you.” He spoke plainly. Such was his wont. Dettlaff despised trickery and the cowardice humans so often fell back on. He much preferred honesty and directness. It allowed easy of communication. “As your Servant, however, that is of no importance. Answer me plain now; do you intend to fight against the others?”

[beauclairbeast-blog]

@gekkounoken

   “...I will not pretend to understand your prerogatives.”

Since his arrival, Dettlaff had been anxious. He was “summoned” by what he understood to be the Grail -- summoned from a point following his death. He could remember clearly his final moments, what had transpired before. He could remember his purpose.

“That” Dettlaff fought for betrayed love, cursing all of humanity, his heart torn asunder by myriad emotions. “This” Dettlaff existed to hunt. To kill. The Grail instructed him to fight.

But nobody fought. And it left the Avenger empty.

   “...As a Servant, it is within my nature to kill. Yet none of our kind I have met wishes to meet me in combat. So what of you? Are you, too, a coward who seeks peace where none can exist?”

[beauclairbeast-blog]

@dazzleeyes

   “...I do not like you.”

Though it was a statement, it also sounded almost like a decision on Dettlaff’s part, one he had to think about before finally coming to. He had no true gripe against monsters, not even those of the demonic variety, such as succubi or chorts. Monsters were honest, direct. 

This girl, though...something about her unsettled him.

Though he remained in human form, his piercing blue eyes stared at her, unblinking, even as his nose scrunched slightly in distaste. She smelled unnatural. Less like blood and dirt and more like things he could not explain.

   “If you are a monster, act like one. Your eyes speak of too much deceit.”

[beauclairbeast-blog]

@panthermask

A Master...but a child. Not that this was a particular dilemma. Dettlaff had slaughtered many a child, many a man, many a woman. If he wanted to, e could gut her in a second and walk away without blinking.

But he was no beast. No matter what anyone said. He was simply a man. And as such, he had other prerogatives. He spoke with her now as if she were an adult, someone with whom he was on even grounds, even as he knew that a human, any human, was something his kind 

   “...A Master. Heh. Do you know what you stand against, child of spring? It would fill me with no joy to cut you down, I hope you understand...but that will not cause me to hesitate, even amidst this meaningless war. Abscond while you can.”

[beauclairbeast-blog]

@casterofturnabout

   “.....Hmph.”

Wolf-like eyes glared heavily from a wolf-like face. The vampire...no, the Servant, for that was what Dettlaff was now, looked up and down at the figure in front of him, his arms crossed, his expression set in a grim frown. 

Who was this man? He looked like...a noble, if Dettlaff were to guess. Blue silk outfit, something a rich man would buy. Wealthy...and weak. Not worth his time, and yet the rage clawed at him from the inside, constantly needing to be suppressed. His voice came next, grumbling and deep, but not threatening...not yet.

   “...So you and I, like all in this blasted land, are fated to fight. What do you say? I am in no mood for meaningless babble if we are to gut each other the next second.”

[beauclairbeast-blog]

Okay, here we go. I’m gonna dive on in and hop in here with a starter call, with 4 slots. Starting off small, and we’ll see where it goes!

Fair warning, Dettlaff may not bite, but he sure isn’t nice...

[beauclairbeast-blog]

Dettlaff van der Eretein (Witcher)

Avenger

Dull man with a fancy name

Actually a vampire

Will not drink your blood

Isn’t afraid of the sun or your crosses

Hates people like it’s a hobby

Actually a sweetie if you like, give him an apple or say something nice

But shhhhhh I think he’s shy

Has a tendency to go overboard and commit mass murder when he’s mad

He doesn’t get your sarcasm so don’t bother. Or do. He still doesn’t get it.

[beauclairbeast-blog]

For Detlaff, Ciri has gifted a barrel of well-aged wine. With it, a new crafting apron wrapped around a nice woodcarver's tool set and a block of wormwood burl. Ciri has also included a note, "might not be wise to mix the gifts. enjoy. - ciri"

Dettlaff gently unraveled the apron on his table, sighing slightly as he leaned forward over the tools, his eyes not showing even the faintest flicker of emotion, but his whole body suddenly giving off a distinct aura of age -- and perhaps a bit of weariness as well.

To get such gifts, from someone he met but once, even if it was someone from the world he’d been brought from...it felt unnatural. But then again, when had the vampire ever even pretended to understand humanity? A soft smile finally emerged across his lips as he picked up a small chisel from the set, looking over it carefully. It was a fine tool -- he could do much with such equipment.

Humans...they were so funny, weren’t they?

   “...Thank you.”

[periegesisvoid-deactivated]

So vampires don’t show up in film or mirrors, right? What if that applies to literally any kind of sensor. You got some 2000-year-old emissary of the night cussing out an automatic soap dispenser.

[rectorrita-theoldone]

@eretein @beauclairbeast

[beauclairbeast-blog]

mediumofthestars:

✯ “You saying that you’ve never heard of Christmas?! Oh man, your world must suck for missing such a wonderful holiday!” Maya grabs one of  Dettlaff’s hands and poses herself to start running. “C’mon, I can show you all about it!”

While Dettlaff wasn’t about to argue with the idea that the world he came from wasn’t the greatest place (it wasn’t, after all), he was still rather taken-aback with how direct this young woman was -- even more so when she grabbed hold of his arm and started dragging him along behind her, leaving the vampire with few choices other than to pick up his own pace or else be left stumbling.

   “Christmas, you say--?” He managed to get a word in edgewise, somehow, even so. “What do you mean, ‘show’ me?”

[beauclairbeast-blog]

abdicet:

“Aw, what’s a poor little kitty like you doing out in the cold like this?”

Euphie’s quick to discover that this city has plenty of animals wandering around on the streets. It’s worrying, really, especially when the weather is taken into consideration. She’d take every cat into her home if she could, but that would spell disaster almost immediately.

Thankfully, she’s heard about the animal shelter located somewhere in the city, so she’s concentrated her efforts on finding them and bringing them in when possible. This cat is one of the many she’s found so far. But before she can reach it and scoop it up into her arms, it runs out from its hiding spot.

Immediately standing, Euphie turns, ready to give chase– Only to see that the cat has decided to say hello to another person instead, rubbing against their legs.

“How cute!” She approaches without much worry, offering a smile to the stranger. “It seems they like you.”

Dettlaff wasn’t bad with animals -- as a matter of fact, he was quite good with them. Better with the kind spurned by others, like rats, crows, and bats, but still quite adept when dealing with cats and dogs. So it wasn’t a big surprise to him when such a small creature approached him with little care. Kneeling down, the vampire reached out with a hand to stroke the cat’s head, getting a happy mewl in response -- only to find that a much less manageable creature had taken an interest in him as well.

   “...I like cats, myself.” He offered this after a moment of hesitation. When humans started conversations, he always had just a bit of trouble figuring out how to proceed. They’d do things like state the obvious, pointlessly directing attention to it, and somehow figure that it was a meaningful thing to do. Lifting his hand off of the feline, the man in black stood, offering a gentle incline of his head in greeting.

   “Does the cat belong to you?” As he asked the question, Dettlaff couldn’t help but notice that the small thing just wouldn’t go away -- it seemed quite content to hang around him. Curious. While cats certainly rarely had any aversion to him, they didn’t typically stay by his side for so long. “...She’s quite persistent.”

[beauclairbeast-blog]

sylvia-anna:

Sʏᴀɴɴᴀ’s eyes haven’t moved even when she was noticed. She wasn’t ashamed of her actions since her interest did pick up when she noticed the tall dark figure lingering about. 

“You don’t look like you’re from here.” She said softly, her lips spreading into a ghostly smile. “Where are you from?”

   “Nazair.” Dettlaff spoke quickly, curtly. He didn’t care to play the human game of coyness -- especially not when the other party was so clearly trying to push him in that direction. Not only did he not understand it, but it made him uncomfortable as well. Too often did such a door lead into the halls of dishonesty.

   “...Of what interest is it to you?” He added this, regardless. Better to blend into a conversation than let it run bone-dry.

[penguin-memes-blog]

tell me your honest opinion of my portrayal

[beauclairbeast-blog]

Do you dream about them? ’

   “Every time I sleep.”

He’s honest, blunt. The question came as a bit of a surprise, but that didn’t make it unanswerable. They were speaking of his Pack...those he considered friends and family, who ran at his side in the world he was dragged from -- his only source of true happiness over centuries in a bleak, unfamiliar world.

And now he was starting all over again.

   “...And you? Do you dream of your friends at home?”