[ 'Ease' is a strong word, maybe. It doesn't relieve the pain. But it keeps Trevor's movements and sounds slow and deliberate and safe. He doesn't thrash about, he doesn't scream, just curls in upon himself in agony. Soft whines and sobs come from him.
It also allows for pinpointing of the exact moment when he starts to count as 'human', because it's about halfway through the transformation that the whines become a much harsher yell and he begins beating a fist against the floor.
And then it's done, and the tension fades from his body, and the floor beneath him - he'd fallen on to his side somewhere in that process and only just notices now he can feel the cold stone against one cheek - is clean of bloodstains, and the door behind them is repaired and he just lies there gasping for breath. ]
[Part of Alucard is still a scientist trying to figure out all of this. It...it helps him with something he's thought about with the stone and the system to remove toxins, and how they might prevent any premature removal of the needles needed for transfusion. They'll have to use the incense, because it will keep everything in place. Nothing will be batted away.
But the rest of him is still aghast, and it means that this time through the transformation, Alucard is right down on the floor next to Trevor. Curling up on himself means at least Alucard can put a hand on Trevor's back, firm and if not reassuring, at least present in a way that he couldn't be before. It is not ideal. But it isn't worse as far as he's concerned, so at least there is improvement.
The fist on the floor does no one any good. Alucard tries to make it still, make it stop, and then everything is over for now. Trevor's face is dragged into Alucard's lap. There's a cool hand on his cheek. The other is in his hair.
I'm here. I'm here. You're not a monster. I'm here.]
[ Human. He's human again. And it hurts, but he can deal with that. Fuck, he's willing to just live with the pain of turning back for as long as it takes if it means he can just remain himself and never, never, never do that again.
He can feel Alucard's hands on his face and in his hair as the pain recedes enough to let him sense things outside of it. And Sypha is there, taking his hand and holding it for a moment before moving her hands up his arm, testing and measuring. He's lost no more muscle mass since the turning back last night (they hadn't noticed so much after the first night, all too relieved that they might have a chance to undo this. It was the second night when they took note of it, because both of them settled against his chest and apparently both of them are informed enough about his chest to notice changes). The feeding achieved that, at least, his body using Alucard's blood to fuel its constant changing and changing back rather than consuming itself.
(Sypha seems relieved by it, but he doesn't find it nearly so comforting as she does. He's starved before, he'd rather do it again than this new, horrible, unfamiliar shit.) ]
Well. [ And it hurts, it hurts, but he's a little more capable of horrible humor now. ] That's information for the hold, I suppose. Being a vampire has no effect at all on one's self-control. It's as bad as ever.
[There it is. The terrible fucking joke, and Alucard's face melts in relief for it. His laugh is so thin and so very near to cracking, but it's there and it is relieved.]
Or terrible sense of humor.
[He says it with terrible fondness, like he might break down for that instead of everything else that has happened tonight. Alucard's certain that his breaking point will come soon, spurred on by more turnings and more failed attempts to put this all to rights.
Alucard's watched Sypha take her careful measurements of Trevor's mass. Notes that there's an undercurrent of if not approval, then relief, because they had been noticing the same things. There's enough human in Alucard's blood to sustain the vampiric cravings, enough to put Trevor's body back to rights when he is human again.
There we have it. Being a vampire doesn't improve me at all.
[ He's already regretting the 'self control' jab at himself, because fuck if that doesn't invite the comparison of the compulsion to feed to the occasional burning need to drink until he stops thinking that he can still feel sometimes. (Thankfully, right now, no matter how much he feels it it's impossible. Even water is too much to take in anything other than tiny sips.). It's- probably worth considering if ruining ones self-control with years of alcohol has an effect on the ability to resist the call to drink blood. It's also impossible for him to think about in an unbiased way, so he puts it out of his mind. ]
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cryptsleeper) wrote2018-11-10 11:26 pm
no subject
It also allows for pinpointing of the exact moment when he starts to count as 'human', because it's about halfway through the transformation that the whines become a much harsher yell and he begins beating a fist against the floor.
And then it's done, and the tension fades from his body, and the floor beneath him - he'd fallen on to his side somewhere in that process and only just notices now he can feel the cold stone against one cheek - is clean of bloodstains, and the door behind them is repaired and he just lies there gasping for breath. ]
no subject
But the rest of him is still aghast, and it means that this time through the transformation, Alucard is right down on the floor next to Trevor. Curling up on himself means at least Alucard can put a hand on Trevor's back, firm and if not reassuring, at least present in a way that he couldn't be before. It is not ideal. But it isn't worse as far as he's concerned, so at least there is improvement.
The fist on the floor does no one any good. Alucard tries to make it still, make it stop, and then everything is over for now. Trevor's face is dragged into Alucard's lap. There's a cool hand on his cheek. The other is in his hair.
I'm here. I'm here. You're not a monster. I'm here.]
no subject
He can feel Alucard's hands on his face and in his hair as the pain recedes enough to let him sense things outside of it. And Sypha is there, taking his hand and holding it for a moment before moving her hands up his arm, testing and measuring. He's lost no more muscle mass since the turning back last night (they hadn't noticed so much after the first night, all too relieved that they might have a chance to undo this. It was the second night when they took note of it, because both of them settled against his chest and apparently both of them are informed enough about his chest to notice changes). The feeding achieved that, at least, his body using Alucard's blood to fuel its constant changing and changing back rather than consuming itself.
(Sypha seems relieved by it, but he doesn't find it nearly so comforting as she does. He's starved before, he'd rather do it again than this new, horrible, unfamiliar shit.) ]
Well. [ And it hurts, it hurts, but he's a little more capable of horrible humor now. ] That's information for the hold, I suppose. Being a vampire has no effect at all on one's self-control. It's as bad as ever.
no subject
Or terrible sense of humor.
[He says it with terrible fondness, like he might break down for that instead of everything else that has happened tonight. Alucard's certain that his breaking point will come soon, spurred on by more turnings and more failed attempts to put this all to rights.
Alucard's watched Sypha take her careful measurements of Trevor's mass. Notes that there's an undercurrent of if not approval, then relief, because they had been noticing the same things. There's enough human in Alucard's blood to sustain the vampiric cravings, enough to put Trevor's body back to rights when he is human again.
Three, it seems, is still the order of the day.]
no subject
[ He's already regretting the 'self control' jab at himself, because fuck if that doesn't invite the comparison of the compulsion to feed to the occasional burning need to drink until he stops thinking that he can still feel sometimes. (Thankfully, right now, no matter how much he feels it it's impossible. Even water is too much to take in anything other than tiny sips.). It's- probably worth considering if ruining ones self-control with years of alcohol has an effect on the ability to resist the call to drink blood. It's also impossible for him to think about in an unbiased way, so he puts it out of his mind. ]