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stonepicnicking_okapiTitle: Bath
Fandoms: "The Vampyre" (John William Polidori, 1816) and Jeeves & Wooster
Length: 1100
Rating: Gen
Characters: Lord Ruthven, OCC [original corvid character], Bertram Wooster, Jeeves.
For: the 51+crossover fandom challenge prompt 02. Bath.
Summary: Lord Ruthven crosses paths with his next victim at the Turkish bath. Or does he?
When Lord Ruthven returned to his hotel room, he went immediately to the windows and opened them, letting in the cold night air and a large black raven.
The raven settled on the back of a straight chair and stared intently at Lord Ruthven. Lord Ruthven, for his part, carefully divested himself of his jacket and loosened his collar and tie before addressing the bird.
“I was hesitant about returning to London, but I think this evening I found something, someone, of course, who might make the journey well worth the trouble and risk.”
The raven tilted its head in an inquiring gesture.
“I met him at the bath,” continued Lord Ruthven. “Innocent young maidens, with and without ample dowries, are a thing of the past. Too much fuss,” he waved a dismissive hand and grimaced, “especially since the long-awaited sum from Edinburgh has finally reached the bank. Now, innocent young men,” he paused for effect, “their corruption can be just as sweet as their feminine counterparts and the elixir in their vessels,” his thoughtfully pursed lips curled in a dreadful smile, “just as refreshing.”
The raven squawked impatiently.
“All right, all right,” said Lord Ruthven, sitting at the desk. “The vessel I am speaking of is not exactly blue blood, but from a good, if slightly eccentric, old family. Young, lean, handsome in a certain way, but, and here is the allure: not a single thought in his precious head. An empty vessel. Can you believe it?”
The raven chirruped as if he could, indeed, believe it as well as many more things, but Lord Ruthven paid the bird no mind.
“It is the empty ones that fill with madness the quickest, that shriek with terror the loudest, too, when the moment comes. Their corruption,” Lord Ruthven cackled as he removed the flower from his buttonhole and crushed it in his fist, “is delicious!”
Lord Ruthven uncurled his hand, and the crumpled petals scattered to the floor. “Mister Bertram Wilberforce Wooster reminds me of dear Aubrey. Do you remember Aubrey?”
The raven gave a short, negative caw.
“Before your time, yes. I drank his sweetheart and his sister until they were husks,” Lord Ruthven chuckled, “and drove him to a fatal madness. Yes, that will be the plan here, too, but all in one, thoroughly simple creature. Oh, it won’t take much. I’ve already charmed him. Nothing too bold, of course, nothing coarse, but I took the precaution of relieving him of his cigarette case so that I may have reason for returning it to him. A gaudy silver affair, it is, too, but all young men are the same. Aubrey had one just like it. Perhaps that was what reminded me. Ah, Aubrey, how I led him by the nose all about the peninsula.” Lord Ruthven’s dead grey eye looked almost wistful. He was lost in thought for a while, then he sighed. “Romance isn’t what it used to be, even for the undead.”
The raven squawked ruefully.
---
“Jeeves!”
“Yes, sir?”
“A b. and s., please, Jeeves. A generous allowance of the brandy and cut the soda off like a nephew who’s just eloped with a chorus girl.”
“Yes, sir, and if I may make an observation, you don’t look as relaxed as is your custom after a visit to the bath.”
“I don’t think it’s too much to say the dromedary’s spine is broken, and that the pride of the Woosters is in the market for a new oasis. Ask about at the Ganymede Club where the respectable men about town are watering their steeds. I shall do the same at the Drones.”
“The Northumberland Avenue establishment did not give satisfaction, sir?”
“It did not, Jeeves. I am even considering a strongly worded letter to the management. Although what exact words I’d use escape me at the moment.”
“Indeed, sir? And, if I may ask, what exactly is the source of your grievance?”
“Vampires, Jeeves. They’ve gone and let the bally vampires in. I can’t go to a Turkish bath that allows that sort of clientele.”
“Vampires, sir?”
“Yes, Jeeves. I met one this evening. He calls himself ‘Lord Ruthven.’”
“I don’t believe I’m familiar with the gentle—that is to say—the name.”
“No? One eye dead like a great stuffed buzzard, pale as a Marley’s coffin-nail, oily with charm. You know what gives them away, Jeeves?”
“No, sir. Here is your drink, sir.”
“Thank you, Jeeves. Can’t take their eyes off the Wooster jugular.” I gave one side of the onion stalk a pat. “I think this one, too, enjoys the hunt as well as feed. He’d probably bat me around like a half-dead mouse before he got down to business.”
“You disturb me, sir.”
“It is a disturbing affair, Jeeves. I don’t know what it is about these coves, though I don’t suppose I can call them proper coves seeing as how they aren’t properly alive.”
“Characters, sir?”
“Yes, that’s the word I want. Well, these characters are often drawn to me. Did I ever tell about the summer I spent collecting wildflowers?”
“I believe you have made reference to it on previous occasions, sir.”
“A certain Dorian Gray promised me a first prize for my collection if I succumbed to his wiles, but young Bertram, even a fawn Bertram frolicking in the meadows, knew better and issued a firm nolle prosequi. Second prize is still worth boasting about.”
“You leave me at a loss for words, sir.”
“One good thing’s come out it.”
“And what’s that, sir?”
“I got rid of that hideous cigarette case, the one I was stuck with at the end of the Drones’ annual Secret Swap. Lord Ruthven palmed it off me at the bath. I suppose he will use restoring it to me as a pretext for a second meeting. But, Jeeves?”
“Yes, sir?”
“We’ll be ready for him.”
“Yes, sir! Might I suggest for tomorrow’s lunch a carbonara with a heavy garlic sauce? And shall I add to the morning’s shopping list a provision of sharpened wooden stakes?”
“There you go. And if you can get your mitts on some holy water, so much the better.”
“It shall be done, sir.”
“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Jeeves: you stand alone.”
“If I may take a liberty, sir, to correct you: I stand with you.”
“Some people think I ought to be in home for the half-witted, Jeeves. But they forget the fighting ancestors. We couldn’t have survived the ages by being every Vlad, Varney, and Lord Ruthven’s aperitif!”
“Very true, sir, very true.”
Fandoms: "The Vampyre" (John William Polidori, 1816) and Jeeves & Wooster
Length: 1100
Rating: Gen
Characters: Lord Ruthven, OCC [original corvid character], Bertram Wooster, Jeeves.
For: the 51+crossover fandom challenge prompt 02. Bath.
Summary: Lord Ruthven crosses paths with his next victim at the Turkish bath. Or does he?
When Lord Ruthven returned to his hotel room, he went immediately to the windows and opened them, letting in the cold night air and a large black raven.
The raven settled on the back of a straight chair and stared intently at Lord Ruthven. Lord Ruthven, for his part, carefully divested himself of his jacket and loosened his collar and tie before addressing the bird.
“I was hesitant about returning to London, but I think this evening I found something, someone, of course, who might make the journey well worth the trouble and risk.”
The raven tilted its head in an inquiring gesture.
“I met him at the bath,” continued Lord Ruthven. “Innocent young maidens, with and without ample dowries, are a thing of the past. Too much fuss,” he waved a dismissive hand and grimaced, “especially since the long-awaited sum from Edinburgh has finally reached the bank. Now, innocent young men,” he paused for effect, “their corruption can be just as sweet as their feminine counterparts and the elixir in their vessels,” his thoughtfully pursed lips curled in a dreadful smile, “just as refreshing.”
The raven squawked impatiently.
“All right, all right,” said Lord Ruthven, sitting at the desk. “The vessel I am speaking of is not exactly blue blood, but from a good, if slightly eccentric, old family. Young, lean, handsome in a certain way, but, and here is the allure: not a single thought in his precious head. An empty vessel. Can you believe it?”
The raven chirruped as if he could, indeed, believe it as well as many more things, but Lord Ruthven paid the bird no mind.
“It is the empty ones that fill with madness the quickest, that shriek with terror the loudest, too, when the moment comes. Their corruption,” Lord Ruthven cackled as he removed the flower from his buttonhole and crushed it in his fist, “is delicious!”
Lord Ruthven uncurled his hand, and the crumpled petals scattered to the floor. “Mister Bertram Wilberforce Wooster reminds me of dear Aubrey. Do you remember Aubrey?”
The raven gave a short, negative caw.
“Before your time, yes. I drank his sweetheart and his sister until they were husks,” Lord Ruthven chuckled, “and drove him to a fatal madness. Yes, that will be the plan here, too, but all in one, thoroughly simple creature. Oh, it won’t take much. I’ve already charmed him. Nothing too bold, of course, nothing coarse, but I took the precaution of relieving him of his cigarette case so that I may have reason for returning it to him. A gaudy silver affair, it is, too, but all young men are the same. Aubrey had one just like it. Perhaps that was what reminded me. Ah, Aubrey, how I led him by the nose all about the peninsula.” Lord Ruthven’s dead grey eye looked almost wistful. He was lost in thought for a while, then he sighed. “Romance isn’t what it used to be, even for the undead.”
The raven squawked ruefully.
---
“Jeeves!”
“Yes, sir?”
“A b. and s., please, Jeeves. A generous allowance of the brandy and cut the soda off like a nephew who’s just eloped with a chorus girl.”
“Yes, sir, and if I may make an observation, you don’t look as relaxed as is your custom after a visit to the bath.”
“I don’t think it’s too much to say the dromedary’s spine is broken, and that the pride of the Woosters is in the market for a new oasis. Ask about at the Ganymede Club where the respectable men about town are watering their steeds. I shall do the same at the Drones.”
“The Northumberland Avenue establishment did not give satisfaction, sir?”
“It did not, Jeeves. I am even considering a strongly worded letter to the management. Although what exact words I’d use escape me at the moment.”
“Indeed, sir? And, if I may ask, what exactly is the source of your grievance?”
“Vampires, Jeeves. They’ve gone and let the bally vampires in. I can’t go to a Turkish bath that allows that sort of clientele.”
“Vampires, sir?”
“Yes, Jeeves. I met one this evening. He calls himself ‘Lord Ruthven.’”
“I don’t believe I’m familiar with the gentle—that is to say—the name.”
“No? One eye dead like a great stuffed buzzard, pale as a Marley’s coffin-nail, oily with charm. You know what gives them away, Jeeves?”
“No, sir. Here is your drink, sir.”
“Thank you, Jeeves. Can’t take their eyes off the Wooster jugular.” I gave one side of the onion stalk a pat. “I think this one, too, enjoys the hunt as well as feed. He’d probably bat me around like a half-dead mouse before he got down to business.”
“You disturb me, sir.”
“It is a disturbing affair, Jeeves. I don’t know what it is about these coves, though I don’t suppose I can call them proper coves seeing as how they aren’t properly alive.”
“Characters, sir?”
“Yes, that’s the word I want. Well, these characters are often drawn to me. Did I ever tell about the summer I spent collecting wildflowers?”
“I believe you have made reference to it on previous occasions, sir.”
“A certain Dorian Gray promised me a first prize for my collection if I succumbed to his wiles, but young Bertram, even a fawn Bertram frolicking in the meadows, knew better and issued a firm nolle prosequi. Second prize is still worth boasting about.”
“You leave me at a loss for words, sir.”
“One good thing’s come out it.”
“And what’s that, sir?”
“I got rid of that hideous cigarette case, the one I was stuck with at the end of the Drones’ annual Secret Swap. Lord Ruthven palmed it off me at the bath. I suppose he will use restoring it to me as a pretext for a second meeting. But, Jeeves?”
“Yes, sir?”
“We’ll be ready for him.”
“Yes, sir! Might I suggest for tomorrow’s lunch a carbonara with a heavy garlic sauce? And shall I add to the morning’s shopping list a provision of sharpened wooden stakes?”
“There you go. And if you can get your mitts on some holy water, so much the better.”
“It shall be done, sir.”
“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Jeeves: you stand alone.”
“If I may take a liberty, sir, to correct you: I stand with you.”
“Some people think I ought to be in home for the half-witted, Jeeves. But they forget the fighting ancestors. We couldn’t have survived the ages by being every Vlad, Varney, and Lord Ruthven’s aperitif!”
“Very true, sir, very true.”