[Alucard keeps notes on how the house functions. He's brought spare rag paper with them for the task, and their own supply of ink and the like. Everything he writes is in Wallachian, not Latin or Greek or any other scholarly language. They must be able to read this, especially if some ill happens. The margins are messier than the main text, comparisons to the castle mused out. He's always understood the castle's mechanics. He had to in order to build under Gresit. But the development of his father's work, that's a very different beast.
And it all comes from blood.
That's not a surprise.
The particulars of what defines consumed goods are noted too, and while it feels strange to be outside of developing spells with Sypha, Alucard's pleased that Trevor gets to experience the joy of it. Because it is joyful, yelling about this change or that, tones getting louder and louder and more and more delighted to have hit into a solution or furious for a new problem.
Night passes. He makes breakfast in the morning, and then it is upstairs to explore what remains of the house. Alucard moves cautiously behind Trevor, not for alienation in the house but out of lingering concern for the concussion. (Trevor's not a swooning madien, but he will be damned if he misses the opportunity for that joke.) The rooms they've gone through so far are unremarkable, and then, then there is this one.
Alucard lingers in the threshold for a moment or so before walking in. Sypha's looking at the bookcase, and Alucard goes in that direction too. In theory, nothing should be printed. He opens a volume and finds that he's correct: everything here is a handwritten manuscript, produced at stunning cost.]
Doubtlessly. [He places the volume back where it was, eyes trailing over to the second doorway.] Another side room, I'll guess. Status would allow for several apartments before the bedroom.
no subject
And it all comes from blood.
That's not a surprise.
The particulars of what defines consumed goods are noted too, and while it feels strange to be outside of developing spells with Sypha, Alucard's pleased that Trevor gets to experience the joy of it. Because it is joyful, yelling about this change or that, tones getting louder and louder and more and more delighted to have hit into a solution or furious for a new problem.
Night passes. He makes breakfast in the morning, and then it is upstairs to explore what remains of the house. Alucard moves cautiously behind Trevor, not for alienation in the house but out of lingering concern for the concussion. (Trevor's not a swooning madien, but he will be damned if he misses the opportunity for that joke.) The rooms they've gone through so far are unremarkable, and then, then there is this one.
Alucard lingers in the threshold for a moment or so before walking in. Sypha's looking at the bookcase, and Alucard goes in that direction too. In theory, nothing should be printed. He opens a volume and finds that he's correct: everything here is a handwritten manuscript, produced at stunning cost.]
Doubtlessly. [He places the volume back where it was, eyes trailing over to the second doorway.] Another side room, I'll guess. Status would allow for several apartments before the bedroom.