[ He can't tell if the pain has faded or if he's simply grown used to it after the last few hours. He doesn't care.
He does speak, after a while, and it's all mercilessly practical. Instructions to Alucard and Sypha to find the Renard and Lacarde branches of the clan, in hiding (he would never have been able to make contact with them. Alucard ought to be able to find them easily.). The Gandolfi family (last known to be in Florence but likely exiled from Italy now for their work in alchemy). The Morris clan (Ireland, if he recalls correctly). Any of them ought to be able to use the whip, even if the cost of it upon themselves might be horrifying. If the worst should happen, the two of them won't be left without a hunter. Only without him. Instructions to leave both whip and stone here, behind the many layers of protection that Mathias put on this place. Along with him. And he will wait here, and he will live (and that is his compromise for talking strategy now, of all times, that he will live for as long as he can remain himself), until either whip or stone are needed. And when they are, he will join one or the other.
And then he goes silent again, only holding them, because that's all he can do now. Even that seems like too much. He's disgusting, more so than he ever was before. He can't kiss away their tears, because his mouth is all full of fangs.
It must have been about three hours since sunset. He doesn't know that because he has any particular concept of how the time is passing - he doesn't know if it's racing past or dragging, and he has no heartbeat to measure it by. But there are noises now, quieter than Alucard's occasional sobs or Sypha's whispers. He's heard them before, but he can pick them out more clearly. The bottles and containers that had their contents used on the stone shifting slightly as their contents refill. It's midnight, and the day is beginning again.
And his heart beats.
And after three hours without a heartbeat, it feels rather like being punched behind the ribs. He recoils back, because he doesn't know what the fuck this is but Sypha still has that awful bruise from the last time something happened and he's not going to hurt her again. And the worst of the pain is back, his skull reshaping itself again. Things inside of him that have been deathly still for the last few hours forcing themselves violently back to life. His lungs are burning and he can't understand what he's meant to do about that until he takes a great, gasping breath and then chokes it out again and-
no subject
He does speak, after a while, and it's all mercilessly practical. Instructions to Alucard and Sypha to find the Renard and Lacarde branches of the clan, in hiding (he would never have been able to make contact with them. Alucard ought to be able to find them easily.). The Gandolfi family (last known to be in Florence but likely exiled from Italy now for their work in alchemy). The Morris clan (Ireland, if he recalls correctly). Any of them ought to be able to use the whip, even if the cost of it upon themselves might be horrifying. If the worst should happen, the two of them won't be left without a hunter. Only without him. Instructions to leave both whip and stone here, behind the many layers of protection that Mathias put on this place. Along with him. And he will wait here, and he will live (and that is his compromise for talking strategy now, of all times, that he will live for as long as he can remain himself), until either whip or stone are needed. And when they are, he will join one or the other.
And then he goes silent again, only holding them, because that's all he can do now. Even that seems like too much. He's disgusting, more so than he ever was before. He can't kiss away their tears, because his mouth is all full of fangs.
It must have been about three hours since sunset. He doesn't know that because he has any particular concept of how the time is passing - he doesn't know if it's racing past or dragging, and he has no heartbeat to measure it by. But there are noises now, quieter than Alucard's occasional sobs or Sypha's whispers. He's heard them before, but he can pick them out more clearly. The bottles and containers that had their contents used on the stone shifting slightly as their contents refill. It's midnight, and the day is beginning again.
And his heart beats.
And after three hours without a heartbeat, it feels rather like being punched behind the ribs. He recoils back, because he doesn't know what the fuck this is but Sypha still has that awful bruise from the last time something happened and he's not going to hurt her again. And the worst of the pain is back, his skull reshaping itself again. Things inside of him that have been deathly still for the last few hours forcing themselves violently back to life. His lungs are burning and he can't understand what he's meant to do about that until he takes a great, gasping breath and then chokes it out again and-
-fuck, he needs to breathe. ]