[The practicality aches. It's smart. It's important to establish. But every single word is a horrible reminder. He's not coming home. He's not coming home. For your father's blood, he's not coming home. It is an undercurrent, a horrible one, one that fills every muffled noise.
But Alucard still takes careful note of the families and where they are supposed to be. He begins to draft the letters of introduction, how they shall be worded, how they shall be signed. He is, for all intents and purposes, the executor of the estate. He has been for three years now, but it changes with death. Maybe these families will want more involvement with the Hold, take great offense at the son of Dracula administering to it's needs. Maybe the fighting shall begin anew, and this time with the castle crippled.
He'll confide none of it to Sypha when this is over. Her feelings are her own, she must process them as is best for her. They'll have to talk about those when they get home but. But it probably won't be articulate words for a while, just horrible noises of loss.
Somewhere in it all, midnight comes. And then, for the second time in 24 hours, it all goes to shit.
Trevor's recoiled, he and Sypha are in the opposite direction, the question of what the fuck?! on all of their lips. Alucard nearly says it, but the pain, the sound of bones, that drowns out everything else and then, with soft wonder and fear:]
no subject
But Alucard still takes careful note of the families and where they are supposed to be. He begins to draft the letters of introduction, how they shall be worded, how they shall be signed. He is, for all intents and purposes, the executor of the estate. He has been for three years now, but it changes with death. Maybe these families will want more involvement with the Hold, take great offense at the son of Dracula administering to it's needs. Maybe the fighting shall begin anew, and this time with the castle crippled.
He'll confide none of it to Sypha when this is over. Her feelings are her own, she must process them as is best for her. They'll have to talk about those when they get home but. But it probably won't be articulate words for a while, just horrible noises of loss.
Somewhere in it all, midnight comes. And then, for the second time in 24 hours, it all goes to shit.
Trevor's recoiled, he and Sypha are in the opposite direction, the question of what the fuck?! on all of their lips. Alucard nearly says it, but the pain, the sound of bones, that drowns out everything else and then, with soft wonder and fear:]
...Everything resets.
[Again. With the tiniest bit of hope:]
Everything resets.