Alder Heights She boiled me, with SCIENCE!

the outfit, at Safiya's birthday party

Beauregard was perusing the blood cocktails. Cocktail implied some sort of mixed drink, he supposed, and the closest thing to mixing within these plastic cups was the presence of a paper umbrella. He plucked is drink the warming liquid within, dunking the stick into this mouth to pull it clean from his lips.

He had the option to feed from a living person, of course. But he was here to test something very, very terrible, and he was looking for someone to assist.

"Have you ever microwaved blood?" he asked as he saw someone approach from his peripheral vision, not immediately glancing to see who it was. He hoped the answer was no, or else this entire experiment would lose its joy. Beauregard shuffled one flip-flop as he looked up from the dark red drink to whoever had appeared beside him.

these with these

"Have you ever microwaved blood?"

Unexpectedly Beauregard had hit Aleksander with a terrible memory!

Although any grimace on his face was soon replaced with low, humming laughter. "Ah, not...exactly? Stove top!" A wave of one hand as if to ward off the memory. His other sought to remove his sunglasses (comical, as it was not sunny out!) from his face. "What result are you hoping for?"
Oh, stove top. That seemed a more logical option. Safer. More controlled temperature, he assumed. Beauregard didn't cook much these days.

"I'm uncertain," he admitted, looking to the disarming Aleksander, twirling the umbrella between two fingers. "I thought, it's Edvin's microwave, so I will never have a better opportunity to test. How did the stove top go?"

A pan full of blood. Steaming up, evaporating some of the liquid. Beauregard imagined the odor and a delayed smile of disgust settled in.

]TWUNKS and a shirt

Lazarus didn't know what to do with his hands. Or, really, his entire body. He'd gotten into the pool, however briefly, and then wandered off again, having some mistaken but prickling sensation that everyone was looking at him. Of course, Safiya was the star of the show, but he was a man quite skilled at being stuck in his own head.

He'd shied away from sticking his teeth into some sweet "volunteer" at the poolside, being a messy drinker as he was. He wasn't at any brink of withering, but it seemed a drink would be a good way to... kill time, or something. There were cups.

And there were others loitering around the cups, and Lazarus had some privilege of catching the conversation. Microwaved blood.

With a line of mild concern drawn through his forehead, he lingered a few steps away, quietly curious.
He couldn't help but laugh! Something deep and hearty from his very core.

Poor Edvin. Unaware that opening his home to a party had opened it to such experiments as well.

"An odor lingered for what seemed to be forever. Plenty of angry neighbors!" Humor in his voice despite the poor outcome of it all. "I wonder if an odor will be produced here but be contained, perhaps?"

He was almost as thrilled as an unruly child again, wondering if it might explode as well.
Oh, dreadful. The disgust was a joy. He wondered if it had burned in the pot, somehow. He hardly understood how cooking worked these days.

"Contained in his kitchen, I imagine," Beauregard said, glancing into his cup, then turning toward the house, and- ah! Spotting perhaps a spy, or perhaps an accomplice. Lazarus was an unlikely attendee to any party, but certainly he couldn't miss something centered on his "girlfriend."

"Are you a scientist, Lazarus?" he asked, then sought to wave both vampires to follow toward Edvin's residence.
She couldn't help but occasionally look around to keep tabs on Lazarus. Yeah, okay, accuse her of mothering. But she knew how he got. So she was just, you know, casually looking.

And casually following. From a distance! Because something was cooking between the Dominus, The Healer, and The Toast.

skippable for now, she'll poke her nose in soon >:]

Aleks spoke with nostalgic delight, and Lazarus wondered with some morbid fascination what boiled blood must smell like. What a way to make a euphemism a reality.

Just when he'd settled into some typical state of waiting for them to clear off, he was spotted. Beauregard dragged him right in, waving like a zealous scout camp leader. "More a historian," he drawled, and while his tone suggested reluctance, he wasn't long in following the herding hand towards the kitchen. Fascination overruled his eternal discomfort, this time around.
A historian!

He wondered how much history Lazarus hid. That would be a question for another time! Now was the time for science. Although he would not let the young man make such a statement without his own two cents!

"Well, perhaps you'll recount this story for centuries to come then!"

It also should be noted that Aleksander happily followed along after Beauregard. The Medic was as much a golden retriever in human form as he was in animal form!
A historian. Beauregard burst into unexpected laughter. Lazarus, here to catalogue an event that would be remembered for ages. He grabbed a second cup of blood along the way, then led their charge into the lovely house of Dr. Edvin Beck.

And truly, what a charming home it was. Beauregard at times thought he'd prefer a larger space, but there was safety in an apartment. Harder for him to be tailed.

"Grab the door for me?" he prompted to whoever would first oblige him as they worked their way inside. To the kitchen, to the microwave.

To science.

"Place your bets, gentlemen," he said as he placed the cups onto the counter, eyeing the appliance he so rarely used anywhere. "How long should we put it in for?"
Beauregard laughed, and Lazarus puckered some, feeling that instinctive twinge that he'd made a misstep. Aleksander seemed continuously delighted, and Lazarus offered them both a small smile that was more akin to a close-lipped grimace. It seemed likely that this would be a memory burned into his brain.

Lazarus would open the door, so utterly familiar with the whole house as he was, without really seeing much of his surroundings. There were cats in here, somewhere - hiding from the familial cluster out by the pool, perhaps. His mind wandered easily to them. He wondered how long he could get away with hanging out with only those cats and no vampires.

The microwave was as alien as most people. He knew what it was, of course, and what it was for. His knowledge on the appliance beyond that was useless. How exactly did it work? How fast was fast enough, or too fast? Images of blood burnt brown to the rim of the cup flashed through his mind's eye. Eugh.

"Five... minutes?" he tried, far from confident.
So sneaky. So sneaky. She trailed them, then when the door was all but closed, she hurried to zip into her tiny bat form, and slip through the door. Silent wings! Or at least, quiet enough to not be heard over their laughter and chatter. She fluttered to the ceiling, her grippy claws just barely carrying her across the drywall. Where were popcorn ceilings when you needed them?

She trailed them from upside down, watching as the trio moved through the house. What the hell were they doing in here? They were heading for the kitchen, and crowding around... the microwave. What was this. They looked like cavemen huddled around the first ever flame.

How long should they put it in? Put what... the bat squinted, a few feet away, but still on the ceiling! What was in the cup? Well, what else could it be? It was fucking blood. They were about to stick blood in the microwave. FOR FIVE MINUTES?

She almost shrieked. But instead only gasped in a tiny, tiny bat gasp.
Inside they went into a house that seemed far too nice to have blood microwaved within it!

Soon they were stationed where necessary, their dear dominus prompted them for bets. Well time really it seemed. Lazarus offered a cool five minutes but Aleksander hardly thought that would be enough! He wouldn't heat something on the stove for only five minutes, or use an oven for only five.

"Ah, I'll double you! I say ten." Some giddy pitch in his deep voice.

It very much felt like some sort of treehouse boy's club in this room.
Sweet Safiya could have fallen from the ceiling and plummeted to the floor in her human form and Beauregard would be pressed to notice her. He had all the giddiness of a reckless experiment ahead of him, cheeks nearly aching from his smile.

After first trying and failing to find a button to inspire it to open on its own, Beauregard pulled the microwave door open with nearly too much force.

"We'll put it in for ten, but check on it along the way," he decided. Considered how long he'd personally bet. "I think it'll need a minute at most, but no need to stop until it's..."

One cup, two cup, both in the microwave. He closed the door.

"Boiling?" he asked, then punched 10:00 into the microwave and pressed start.
Lazarus was likewise absorbed in this morbid scientific venture, utterly ignorant of Safiya's presence. It was just him, two imposing vampires, and two shiny cups of blood awaiting some terrible fate. Aleksander seemed certain that they would need ten minutes, and Lazarus was pretty much immediately prone to thinking he must be right. Beauregard, on the other hand, didn't think it would take any longer than sixty seconds. If a vampire could sweat for uncertainty, he would.

The buttons peeped their disapproval under Beauregard's finger, and then the whole thing whirred noisily to life. Two red cups waltzed lazily in an endless circle under a harsh yellow spotlight, and Lazarus watched intently, not so unlike a dog staring out a window at a cat. He would only occasionally glance to the timer, mostly focused on the cups and waiting for some sign of... bubbling, or frothing.


A plastic cup. No, two plastic cups. With blood in them. In the microwave. For ten minutes. There was literally no microwavable meal that was meant to go in the microwave for ten minutes. Nothing was supposed to go into the microwave for ten minutes.

She wanted to let them have their fun. But. This was a room full of vampires. And it was a fire hazard. She wasn't here to ruin her own party, but apparently all three of these men had died before the invention of the fucking microwave.

"I give it two minutes before the cups melt." Safiya piped from the ceiling. And because she'd blown her cover, she dropped from the ceiling, twisting her little furry body mid-air so she could transform a few feet from the ground. Grunting as she stuck the landing with one foot twisted too far in, she straightened up, standing behind the imposing trio with her hands on her hips. "Have any of you ever touched a microwave before?!"

He nodded his head in joyous agreement. That was the goal here, right? To heat up the blood? Hot things boiled so logically that should be the point at which they stopped.

Although their shenanigans were soon crashed by the one and only birthday girl. Her prediction was only two minutes! He wondered why each of them picked the time they did, how limited all of their knowledge was when collected up together.

"Of course I have touched one before! I don't live under a rock, Safiya." Mirth in his eyes and voice.

Although truthfully his experience really did end at touch. He had not found much reason to mess with such a device before.
And then, just like that, Safiya did drop from the ceiling. Eavesdropping on them, apparently! Beauregard had half a mind to chase her out, to declare that this was a gentlemen's affair, but it was her birthday after all. She stood arms akimbo, Raziyya's bold young daughter.

"I touched one just now!" he said cheerfully. "We stop when the blood boils, not when the cups melt."

If the plastic warped away and its contents left a cool pool on the bottom of the microwave, that would simply need to be the way they continued for some time.

The first minute, Beauregard's guess, proved uneventful. He opened the door, peeked lazily in. With the microwave above the oven as it was, he wasn't offered the best vantage point for looking into the cups. But everything seemed still enough, not even a cloud of steam to threaten.

"I am defeated," he complained with a grand sigh. Onto the second minute, then. Steam fogged the door slightly, though that didn't inherently mean it was a rolling boil. As the second minute passed, he stopped the microwave again.

"Our moment of truth," he said, looking quite directly to Safiya, brows rising to lift the level of drama with it. With showiness, he lifted a hand to the door, tilted his head upward, and lightly yanked. The odor released was was decidedly notable, though it appeared the seconds required for his drama had been enough to hide that the blood had, in fact, been at a rolling boil. He peered within, though not with much commitment, hardly wanting steam in his face.

"No boil, birthday girl."
And there came Safiya's voice, unmistakable. Lazarus did jump, ever so slightly, peeling away from his microwaved reverie to stare at her with some edge of bewilderment. Or maybe... embarrassment. There she stood, hands to hips, accusing them all with apparently incredible accuracy. Lazarus, for the record, never had touched a microwave. They were luckier than they knew to have such a modern vampire in their midst.

Still, despite her scolding, their dear dominus was here to spearhead their unwise experiment all the same. Lazarus fixed her with another of his close-lipped grimaces, and looked on as Beauregard checked once, then twice. No boil on either point. Lazarus wondered if perhaps five minutes was the correct answer. How cold had that blood been, anyway? His eyes wandered back to Safiya, brows risen without him even realizing it. What did the birthday girl think?
Old. Dumb. Men.

Actually just. Men in general. MEN! She clicked her tongue at their sarcasm, unable to not find humor in it. What was it weirdly adorable? Ugh, she hated vampires.

With her supervision, the experiment commenced. She sighed and perched upon the edge of the kitchen island, the marble almost cold against her bare thighs. It was like a renaissance painting, four waifish figures casting pensive looks up at some grand spectacle before them. The spectacle being a red solo cup steadily rotating in a microwave that none of them owned. She would pay to see this from an outside view. What was her life. She loved them all, these stupid vampires.

When they'd reached her estimate, Beauregard took initiative to inspect. Some steam, but no flame nor melted plastic. Just a red plastic cup with hot blood inside. Apparently they wanted it to boil, though.

Safiya caught Lazarus' questioning look. What? Was she deciding here? Leaning forward to peer at the cup for a better inspection, she decided, "Another minute." Because... science!?
Nothing spectacular seemed to happen so far.

No explosions, no smell so unbearable that they exploded, nothing!

It was lackluster, but they still had plenty of time guesses to meet. Lazarus' five and his own ten. So with a curious delight he cheered very much like a boy with wonder. An echo of the birthday bat.

Another minute it was.

"In the name of science," he said, solemn but poorly hiding a smirk. He closed the microwave door with a clunk once more, taking a smidge too long to find the start button to resume the experiment.

There was that microwave hum, a rumble of suspense. He kept his back to it, because that felt like some better measure of integrity. A man committed not to intervene until the time was right. He-

Heard a few low pops. Burbling within. Beauregard turned to reach his hand for the door, but did not yet open it, a tyrant of terror.

"Do we stop?" he asked, knowing the proper answer and also the answer the wanted. A mere twenty-one seconds had passed; they'd hardly committed to their minute.
Another minute it would be, then. Lazarus looked to the microwave with great suspense again as it siiiiighed back to life, watching the light, the dancing twin cups. The time seemed to pass so slowly, twenty seconds dragging it out with broken feet. Slow enough that when a great bubble of blood exploded inside the microwave, he jumped some where he stood, eyes widening.

He didn't care to see what came next. More blood explosions. He wondered, if they left it dirty, how long it would take Edvin to realize his useless microwave was coated in boiled blood. Mostly, though, for Beauregard's question, he knew his answer, and he could only nod his head in fervent disgust.
She wondered how long until someone found them in here. She felt like idiot kids at a high school house party, trying to make a bong out of a toilet roll in the bathroom.

She was just glancing through the windows into the backyard when the POPPING began. Safiya piped out a noise of surprise and fear, eyes bugging as she peered at the microwave. Holy shit! It was actually working! Beauregard was going to stop it, Lazarus puckering in fear, but Safiya leaned forward with a hand on his shoulder.

"Wait! Is it really boiling!?"
There was a pop!

It seemed to startle at least three of the four eager investigators. Lazarus wide-eyed, Safi with a sound and Aleksander with a sharp gasp himself. Half nervous that he would be inspired into a bloodlust! This was, after all, an explosion of blood.

Yet he remained calm. Well, he was still deeply excited by this endeavor but not frenzied into a ghastly sight.

A summons to end this excitement teetered on his lips as Lazarus shook his head but, well, their guest of honor wished to know if it truly was bubbling! Admittedly he was eager to see if it truly was too.

So he used his height to try and peer along with her over their dominus.
Sizzling nerves, sizzling blood in two plastic cups. Pops that jolted him, but Beauregard felt fantastically in control, delighted to be ring leader for this incredibly stupid circus act.

Lazarus nodded. Safiya questioned. Aleksander peeked. Beauregard kept his hand to the door, did not immediately open it.

"It appears," he began, "the consensus agrees to-"

But, alas. His words would fall into a dignified yelp as a considerable burst of blood splattered against the ceiling of the microwave, speckles of red tracking onto the window to dribble down with all the dramatic quality of a low budget horror film.

Beauregard intended to open the door now, to press the button to stop it. But instead he staggered away, horrified, but simultaneously bent forward into a laughing fit that threatened to absolutely level him.

A more responsible party would need to step in, it seemed.
Lazarus was the only sane person in this fucking room. Or maybe the only scared one. Wasn't Safiya the one who'd come storming in here to keep them in check! My, how the turn tables.

They would continue on through this third grueling minute, what was left of it - at least until it seemed to be literally exploding, and where Beauregard moved away like a loaded spring with a yelp, Lazarus also reeled away with a clenched jaw. Off, off, it needed to be turned off! But here, where the cups were becoming steadily more hostile, he felt some solid certainty that the moment he went to stop this madness, the entire thing would erupt on him and he would die.
Hey! Actually! There was an explosion happening! A Stephen King nightmare going down in the fucking microwave!

And of course, not one man in the room had a single fucking testicle. Beauregard and Lazarus reeled away, and she sure as fuck was not waiting for Aleks to work up the nerve. What the hell!

"AAHHHWHATISWRONGWITHYOU!!!" Was her battle cry as she launched herself off the island, through the space created by the baby men. Fuck it! She wouldn't die from fire!

Thankfully, as she reached up to yank the silver door open, there was no fire. Just a bunch of steam and smoke! And the wretched smell of burned plastic and blood. A final pop sent blood flinging out toward her, and she just narrowly missed hopping back it glooped down onto the stovetop. As they microwave beep-beep'd in protest of its demonic seance being interrupted, blood seeped and plastic coiled. Safiya, stunned and disgusted, turned slowly to face the men.
Safiya to the rescue of a gaggle of useless men-turned-boys.

Admittedly, excitement and ravenous curiosity had devoured Aleksander whole. Chewed him up into a fraction of the proper gentleman he tended to be. So he could only watch! Entirely unable to speak lest his words tumble out of him like he was a slobbery beast!

Although in Safiya's rescue and dodge of a blubbering burst of blood, Aleksander unfortunately found himself in the splash zone. Droplets of uncomfortably hot blood splattered onto his face. Enough to stir within him a brief panic that caused a sudden —

Claws tapped and scratched against the kitchen floor as he struggled to stand. Suddenly four legged and, more importantly, positively golden!
Beauregard was a man lost.

He staggered from them, hand slapped to his chest, afflicted. Doubled over, shaking, committed to some forward momentum despite his blindness.

It was the kind of laughter that could send him to the floor, and it nearly did. The sound echoed through Edvin's lovely home, cutting through the stench seeping like poison gas from the microwave.

"Shit!" he shrieked, but this too was in hysterics. He cast a glance back, saw panic and a dog, and a kitchen haze, and blood, and he met it with yet a other belted "HA HA HA HA" that fired off into a firework's squeal.

The whole mess of it was- it was so much, it was so- mess- and it only frenzied him further.
Well, that was quite hard to ignore. Edvin, interest peaked at the notable absence of a few members, turned his attention to the inside of his home.

Striding forward, he sniffed. What... was that smell?

He entered swiftly but stood still in the doorway as the scene spilled out before him. Beauregard, genuinely losing his mind. A dog with a blood splattered face. Lazarus, recoiling. Safiya stood before his microwave. His microwave, oozing blood.

For a moment, he could only stare, mouth agape and chin wagging, though no noise escaped.
It all happened incredibly quickly, incredibly chaotically. Safiya moved like a banshee, popping the demon device open before he could even make a grab at her because it was going to KILL THEM ALL. There was blood, and some awful smell, and a dog, and a dominus reduced to Pompeiian laughter. If he had a heart, it would be beating so hard that it would feel like a feather. But he had no heart, only a clenched jaw, and a clenched hand, and another hand clenched to the nearest countertop.

"Shit," he parroted Beauregard in very nearly a mumble. What an awful idea. Curiosity truly did try to kill the cat, didn't it. Lazarus turned some, dazed and weak at the knees, only to find one stunned Edvin not ten feet away.


Me: i just posted before lazarus, im not next
Me, a week later: shrieking



One moment, she was looking over her shoulder for the three men, and the next, one of them was a fucking dog. Admittedly, a very cute one. And then. And then. They were busted. Safiya looked up in tense disbelief as Edvin entered. And she looked at him. And he looked at her and the rest of them.

And. She. Could not help the howl of laughter that burst out of her, her hands shaking as she braced against the kitchen counter. Wheezing, whistling, absolutely giddy with the insanity of this.

Best. Birthday.
A blood splattered dog.

One who was forced to stare UP! All the laughing faces around him.

Truthfully this whole thing was a lovely disaster. Them having thought it right to tempt fate with a cup of blood and a microwave, the sudden knowledge that they had all been busted in their endeavors.

All he could do was bark with laughter.

Although soon he would have to flee to clean himself. Lest the blood dry into his fur!

Perhaps he would look like this soon...

[Image: 200w.gif?cid=82a1493bff865cjrqv763kfli16...w.gif&ct=g]
It would take him a moment to catch another presence in the house. Actually, it was hardly a vampiric effort: Beauregard merely caught sight of the regent while twisting in place through laughter. This helped him gather himself, if not entirely, voice high as he offered a protective command.

"Out! All of you," he called out, waving at the birthday girl and her cowboy and the dog. The sternness was dramatic at best, leaning dangerously comedic with Edvin here.

"We'll see if I am still dominus at the end of this," he said, continuing his gesture of usherance as he offered a vaguely apologetic expression to the regent.
Was it possible for a vampire to suffer a loss of appetite? Lazarus thought maybe yes. If blood made hot enough to explode wasn't enough, seeing Edvin catch them all in the act certainly might be. He might be the only one besides the homeowner who was not laughing. Maybe Aleks was laughing in his own canine way.

Beauregard, giddy as a schoolgirl, was doing his best to intimidate them out of the house through his frantic laughter. Lazarus did not have to be told twice! With a cowed dog sort of expression of his own, he swiped at Safiya's arm, missing it, and then managing to take a hold of her so that he could wordlessly drag her back out. Like an embarrassed teenager pulling their embarrassing parent away from some chaotic scene. What a terrible metaphor.

Maybe he would simply belly flop into the pool himself.
Laughing! The lot of them. Well, save for Lazarus, but the Regent did not think he'd ever seen the younger man laugh. At least, not to the same degree as the others. Even the dog! Edvin might have chased them all out, including Beauregard, if the Dominus had not done it first.

He let them go, arms akimbo, gaze unwavering on the mess in his kitchen. He did not so much as flinch at Safiya's surge toward him as she was hauled away by Lazarus, her kiss of apology on his cheek hardly registering. He was simply too shocked. Too at a loss for what to make of any of it.

When it was just the two of them, Edvin moved his gaze to the Dominus. He inhaled, tasting the tang of... hot blood on the air. "I think..." He began, brows narrowing as he regathered the words, "Perhaps, Dominus, it is best to keep to humans as our source of blood, next time."

Next time, it would certainly not be at his own home.
There went the birthday girl, ever the charmer. There went the dog, and the cowboy.

And then, here was Edvin, looking not quite upset, but not entirely pleased. Beauregard managed to keep his face together through some Herculean effort of restraint. Edvin made a fair request, and the dominus was ready to admit some mistake had been made here.


Oh. Oh- it was nearly bloodlust on a new moon, this sudden urge, this nearly frantic need to-

"Edvin," he said, frowning a smidge. Looking up toward the leaking appliance, brain on fire with a complete inability to refrain from-

Not whole, anyway.
He did intend to be angry. So, naturally, it must have been the Dominus' will over emotions that made his resolve snap like a twig. He inhaled once, face crushed, as if receiving a bit of bad news; a physical reaction to such a horrible joke. And yet, his exhale was a laugh that blustered from his nostrils. He lifted a hand to press a knuckle to his lips, tempering a smile as he shook his head.

Shoulders squared, sighed, blinked up at the horrifying mess in his kitchen appliance, and said, "I am glad you've gleaned one thing from this." Worth the bloodshed? No, certainly not. Edvin lifted his jaw and said, "The cleaning supplies are under the sink." And then he turned, leaving the great scientist to mop up the aftermath of his failed experiment.
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