|
Post by Herbert von Krolock on Jun 26, 2016 19:53:23 GMT -5
There are no firedancers, this place is full of vampires you know.
"Oh, you made it, you made it, you're here - good for you-"
Throngs of flushed goth kids in struggling whitepaint, with the occasional actual vampire planted in between them, wan and rather less ornamental, oontzed on all sides of Herbert, the most ornamental of them all, and even if he had been wearing his glasses there was a pretty good chance he wouldn't recognize a lot of them. He had told his father he'd invite all his friends, but what he'd really done was tell the people he knew about the party and tell them to bring lots and lots of other people. Word had spread quickly. Krolock wasn't the household name, but it was up there for some people. There were people who knew about his father through hearsay, and others who knew about him through copious research and had found the ferocious and terrifying account of him left behind by a certain Swiss professor who died in frustration and obscurity. As it was, Herbert had either lost Alex in the crowd or merely misplaced him. He was fairly certain when he found Alex he would also find his glasses. Until then, Herbert was actually particularly good at conversating with people he didn't know as though he intimately did. He thought of it as a generic vampire skill. It made eating easier.
"Oh, you're looking SO marvelous! Look, my dear-" this at one person he yanked over - "it's this person here-"
"Judith!"
"You and Judith will get along so well," Herbert insisted intently, and continued on his way at a brisk pace made especially easy by having long legs.
Herbert poked his way through the rather sweaty crowd to find his father.
|
|
|
Post by Graf von Krolock on Jun 26, 2016 20:14:32 GMT -5
Johannes, despite actually being rather well-turned-out for the occasion, looked even more pinched and sour than usual, though he was attempting to cover this with a show of great magnanimity. When he saw Herbert gawping helplessly among the rather disreputable-looking throng he'd gathered, Johannes affixed a very tight smile to his face and slid over.
"Herbert," he said, "I thought we discussed the approach we would be taking to the evening's musical entertainments."
|
|
|
Post by Herbert von Krolock on Jun 26, 2016 20:19:23 GMT -5
"Maybe you only thought it," said Herbert, a clever play on the words his father had said. After a pause, he helpfully prompted, "Thought it, as in in your head."
|
|
|
Post by Graf von Krolock on Jun 26, 2016 20:21:21 GMT -5
"I went through so much trouble having the organ moved up here for you, and I found your old book of sheet music in the harpsichord bench-"
|
|
|
Post by Herbert von Krolock on Jun 26, 2016 20:22:29 GMT -5
"Vati, I want to be in the party-"
His voice edged into frantic whining.
|
|
|
Post by Graf von Krolock on Jun 26, 2016 20:23:37 GMT -5
"And what's better than being the center of attention? Heaven knows how much I spent on your lessons-"
|
|
|
Post by Herbert von Krolock on Jun 26, 2016 20:27:58 GMT -5
"Three hundred years ago-" Herbert cried like a teenager throwing a full-body tantrum. "If it's a recital everybody will just be quiet and bored, thinking they have to be respectful!"
|
|
|
Post by Graf von Krolock on Jun 26, 2016 20:41:23 GMT -5
Johannes winced delicately and touched Herbert's heavily painted cheek.
"You're going to give yourself a fit."
|
|
|
Post by Herbert von Krolock on Jun 26, 2016 20:43:10 GMT -5
Herbert pushed his huge hand off him impatiently and angrily.
"You're going to give me a fit-" he said; it wasn't revelatory, merely a child going 'no, YOU!'
|
|
|
Post by Graf von Krolock on Jun 27, 2016 8:38:44 GMT -5
"All right," Johannes said quickly, with a patient slow blink. "There's nothing to be upset about."
|
|
|
Post by Herbert von Krolock on Jun 27, 2016 8:44:59 GMT -5
Herbert looked for a moment like a lost child, then drew himself up to his full height, which somehow did not make him feel taller than his visibly shorter father. He was only mildly ruffled now, that was all, like a bird who'd flown its silly self into a window but was unharmed afterward. "That's right, there isn't," he said, turning it around on his father now. "It's just some music, vati, it's what they listen to nowadays. It's what I listen to."
|
|
|
Post by Graf von Krolock on Jun 27, 2016 8:46:42 GMT -5
"All right, Bertchen," Johannes said, his smile growing more restrained by the minute.
|
|
|
Post by Herbert von Krolock on Jun 27, 2016 8:49:51 GMT -5
He was smoothing his hair down like a bird preening itself. It started with a couple of strokes that quickly set his hair flat, but then he kept doing it.
|
|
|
Post by Graf von Krolock on Jun 27, 2016 20:35:56 GMT -5
"Herbert," Johannes said gently, taking his son's hand.
|
|
|
Post by Herbert von Krolock on Jun 27, 2016 20:39:29 GMT -5
Herbert startled, looking almost cowed by his father's response, though such tenderness between parent and child was hardly uncharacteristic.
|
|