[Alucard's face remains cold and impassive, even if his instinct is to just tell Damien to go fuck himself for treating Sypha as anything but her own person.]
This is a house of modernity, as you well know. My interest in those things is passing at best, and I think them tiresome when my elders believe they're being cute for using them to needle at me.
[ This does not seem to be going the way Damian would like. There's no visible clues to that effect, but he's quick to try to bring that topic of conversation to a close. ]
Am I to assume that my gift is unwelcome, lord? Fear not, I do not mean to let such a precious rarity die regardless of your answer.
[Alucard's eyes go back to Trevor. Damage assessment beyond the bloodloss. This is probably compulsion, which means it will have to be broken. He has no desire to deal with this man again, but it is a far easier thing to harbor him here to play this bullshit game that has been invented, then pass him along to the Church Ladies until something can be done properly.]
I believe you called him tribute, did you not? You cannot use that word in front of me and then take it back.
[ It's difficult to see any damage right now, though that in itself is probably answer enough. He's wearing gloves and a thick, long coat despite the fact that the night is not a particularly cool one, and he's holding himself in a way that's normal enough, if listless. That, again, is not necessarily a good sign - either the wrist has somehow healed completely or the fact that it's not being held in a way that's at all unusual means that the compulsion isn't allowing him to take pain into account in the way he's standing and moving and he cannot be relied upon to give anything away by limping or favoring one side. About the only skin below the chin that can be seen is the front of his neck, where the chain is looped around. That's a mess of yellow and green and purple bruises ]
Of course, my lord.
[ It's clear from that sugary sweet tone that Damian considers this a victory. He drops the leash to the ground and looks to his witness, who watches impassively. The story is clear enough - if the Belmont is seen again, then Alucard has failed to bring an old enemy under heel even when given every opportunity. A sign of weakness. A sign of placing the value of even the most detested of his mother's kind above is father's. And, should the Belmont cause chaos when released, a sign of dangerous incompetence. ]
[There is every likelihood that the second the compulsion is dropped, the Belmont will make to attack Alucard again and where shall they be? This time throwing the Belmont out the door isn't an option. This is a poisoned cup he has accepted, because to refuse would...ugh. Alucard's not thinking about that, because murder attempt or not, senseless death is not an act he ever wishes to commit.
So he'll plan to knock the Belmont out cold and then actually look at the injuries. Blood transfusion, that's easy enough once he can determine the correct bloodtype. (Not hard, not with him unconscious.) But after that then...then he'll have to talk to Sypha. She understands the peril of this, but she's more human. More clever than Alucard, if he is being honest.
That neck's been fucked up ten times over. But that's leverage.]
Take care that next time you feed, you're much more subtle. You know very well how things are handled if there are too many suspicious bites on the city's population.
[My father's rules apply. Because continuity. Because stability. Because Damien can go fuck himself with this little ploy.]
Of course, of course. I took from this one before I realized he would be leaving my home. A terrible mistake, I admit.
[ The mention of Dracula's own rules knocks him off balance just a little, but he's quick to respond. Because that rule was never made for love of humanity, even if it started being enforced far more strictly after Dracula met his wife. It was made for secrecy's sake. As long as it's someone who won't be missed, and as long as they don't return to the city for those suspicious bites to be seen- well, there's no problem there.
Damian gives a dramatic bow. His companion only nods his head and gives a terse thanks for Alucard's valuable time. ]
If you have no need of me, my lord, then until we meet again. I pray you find my gift to your liking.
[No thank yous. No farewells. Only Alucard's gaze as the two leave. He will know when they are off the property in due time. The castle communicates in all it's little ways.
But once the doors are closed, once Alucard is sure he is out of earshot, he simply sighs and looks over to Trevor with the greatest and most pained look of total exhaustion on his face.
The Belmonts cause problems wherever they go.
He doesn't move towards Trevor quite yet though. The compulsion will either wear off slowly or all at once. If the latter, he does not wish to be close.]
[ The bad news is, it's all at once. The good news, so far as there is good news at all, is that the order to stand and walk was the only thing keeping him on his feet at all. Without that, his legs fall out from under him and he tumbles to the ground with a soft thud and a rattle of chain.
He's awake, barely. He's awake but there's not much more he can do about that than to try to drag himself toward Alucard by the fingertips of one hand, snarling as he does. ]
There's nothing of value gained by lingering on the stairs. All Alucard is being faced with is a half-dead feral cat, which means it is going to hiss and scratch and bite no matter what. He walks down, coming around from behind Trevor because Alucard's not an idiot.
And at that point, he can do nothing else but haul Trevor up by the back of his coat, more like a scruffed kitten than a human at this point, and dangle him just enough so that his feet are off the ground.]
Your instinct was right the first time, I suppose.
[ The struggle he puts up is pathetic in how token it is. He gets one kick in at Alucard's shin, and manages to attempt one punch that just turns into his good hand slapping into Alucard's chest before dragging down it. ]
...-ing to kill me yet? Sick of this shit.
[ It's mumbled and in Romanian. He doesn't have the presence of mind for English right now. ]
[Alucard's Romanian is...a few decades out of date, but fine. He focuses on the important part anyway, which is removing all of those disgusting chains. There's a solid clonk as they fall to the ground in turn, and Alucard will keep them there so Sypha can witness them as evidence of what she's missed for the evening.
No compulsion. That's a personal rule, and the most he can do right now is figure out where the Belmont is going to do the least amount of harm: both to Alucard and on the Belmont himself. It seems prudent, and...there is no good place in the castle for that.]
Maybe if he just hangs on like this for a few more moments, the Belmont will just pass out.]
[ He does, eventually, mumbling more romanian and swearing a little more and eventually falling limp and sinking in to his big coat. From here, it is too big on him. It wasn't a few weeks ago. ]
[A very poisoned chalice. But Trevor having no sense of himself is useful, it means that the Belmont can be dumped into a spare room that has just enough of a sofa in it that the Belmont can be put on hold.
Transfusion first. There's O- in the castle, it's just a matter of going to the right place, getting it out, and then finding the equipment. The wonders of having a doctor of a mother and vampire of a father means that the equipment is easily located and known to be in working order.
Once Alucard has all of that, he returns to the room where Trevor has been dumped, and at this point, he has to remove Trevor's now too big coat. What he sees is about what he expected, a neck bruised to Hell and back, and it's a wonder the Belmont's alive at all. Damien is European, so it's personal.
Idiot didn't feed the Belmont either, that much is clear just from how the clothing hangs off of Trevor's bones. Also fixed. More iron heavy foods, and then figuring out what the hell to do with this problem. (He cannot release Trevor at this point. Alucard also refuses to become a jailer.)
It is a problem he contemplates as he performs the transfusion. Both bags of blood he grabbed are used, and when the needles come out of Trevor's arms Alucard just bandages everything up, moves the equipment aside, and throws Trevor over his shoulder.
There's a few spare bedrooms that have precious little furniture. So Trevor goes into one of those, gets tossed onto the bed, and all the other furniture is removed to avoid quickly improvised stakes.
Whenever Trevor comes to, there is a carafe of water along with a plate of cold meats and bread. No note.
[ The neck is bruised. Mostly, on inspection, by the chain, though there is evidence of feeding. The wrist of his right hand is healed in the wrong position, and the removal of the gloves reveals that the fingers of it are broken as well in a very calculated manner. His left ankle is swollen so much that his boot won't come off, and it's hard to tell if it's broken or sprained.
The rest seems to just be more minor bruises, at a brief glance. The only very noteworthy thing is that the little marks that those needles make are already present on one arm. He's had blood taken from him in that manner, as well as the more traditional feeding. This absolutely will not come up later. ]
mphfuck.
[ He grumbles as he blinks awake. A hospital room? The smell is right- antiseptic and just a little blood. But hospitals tend not to leave food on the floor, unless that's a fucking bizarre American hospital thing.
The first step of solving this mystery is getting out of bed. And possibly- eating the food? It seems like a stupid thing to do, to trust random food from the floor. But fuck, it feels like he's not eaten in weeks. So he ought to get out of the bed.
Which he completely fails at.
There's a loud thump, and Trevor can be found sprawled on the floor. But also determinedly gnawing on a slice of bread, because he's not going to let being unable to stand stop him from BREAD. ]
[Sypha is home by the time Trevor returns to the waking world. Sypha is also pretty damn angry about the whole thing, which Alucard can't blame her for but neither one of them have gotten into the what the fuck are we going to do? part of the discussion. Much of it has been why did you go along with this?! and then a complete sidestep to deal with bullshit supernatural politics which are exhausting in and of themselves.
All of that is to say that Alucard actually misses the noises that Trevor is awake, and he walks in about five minutes later instead. (Sypha's only holding back because there's a very good chance that needing to have the element of surprise will help. Trevor's in no shape to fight, but that's not stopped him from trying before.)
The door's lock clicks open, and Alucard opens it slowly. No creaking or groaning of hinges, just wary and weary caution. He's down to a shirt and his usual trousers, nothing else, no fanciness to him. The scar is visible through the fabric if it sits on him just the right way, and the imperial haughtiness is gone. It has been replaced with a very weary twenty something who would like nothing more than to just curl up in bed with his girlfriend and read.]
Belmont.
[No ill intent. Just acknowledgement. Just breaking the silence first.]
[ He's starting to get his bearings. The priest. He went to the priest for holy water. And then the man asked him to take confession before going out to do his work, in case he didn't have another chance and- it had been a good enough point, and he'd stepped into the booth and-
Things get fuzzy after that. Something pressing down on his mind. He remembers being stripped and bathed, and a quip about not wanting contaminated food. He remembers teeth against his neck. He remembers being asked questions, and the tiny jeweler's hammer coming down on his hands when he stumbled over the answers. He remembers- chains. There was a chain. Talk of a way to demonstrate the son's unsuitability.
He's tearing at the bread determinedly but with tiny bites - this isn't the first time he's had to slowly become re-accustomed to eating. And there are footsteps. One set of them, as best he can hear. A woman's or a child's, barefoot.
And then the door opens. Not a woman or a child, but the vampire from before - footsteps too quiet to hear. There's someone else there. Does he have a partner, or a hostage, or-
-Shit. This is a feeding cell, isn't it? The nicest feeding cell he's been locked in, certainly, but a feeding cell nonetheless. The second set of footsteps must be another prisoner, and that complicates things. On the one hand, this is fucking fantastic please drain him to nothing and let him die. On the other, he can hardly allow someone else to be kept prisoner in Dracula's Fucking Demon Castle. ]
...seem to not be fucking dead yet. You're really, really shitty at this.
You are terrible at understanding intention, aren't you? If I wanted you dead, you would be. [There's no softness in that voice. Just barebones facts.] The transfusion equipment has a filter for bites to prevent turnings, my mother invented it. I expect having two pints of O- in your bloodstream will assist recovery to a certain extent.
[He stops at that for now. There's no reason to overload the Belmont with additional information, not yet. His eyes to to Trevor's hand, and there's an internal cringe. Lovely. Probably the least of all injuries anyway.]
Forgive the lack of additional furniture here. Even in your state, I assume your natural instinct would be to improvise a stake.
You assume right. And you did a shitty job of that, too. Left the fucking curtain pole.
[ Not that he can stand up and reach to wrench it off the wall right now. The rest, the rest he is bewildered by. Vampires don't put blood into humans. What the fuck. ]
Don't care about turning. [ And right now, that's true. This is going to be over long before it should be a problem. This should have been over weeks ago. ] Where the fuck is Dracula and why the fuck is there a willowy golden mosquito in his house refusing to kill Belmonts?
[ What the fuck. He doesn't move, except to tear into the bread in a way that is probably intended to be defiant and threatening but that's actually just entirely consistent with being hungry. ]
There's a woman outside the door. Is she here by choice, or am I going to need the curtain pole?
[So, no. Alucard's features cross into a deep frown, because God, the Belmont is not up on the times and he hates explaining it.]
And yes, my father. My mother was murdered, and you can imagine how well a man like that handles his grief. Dracula has been absent for some time, and a power vaccuum now rules this city. To say that you could potentially ignite a fire here would be a gross understatement.
You know as well as I fucking do that that isn't an answer that means shit where vampires are concerned. Is she here by choice?
[ Excuse him, he was kind of busy!!! It probably wouldn't occur to Alucard, at least not yet perhaps, how evasive his words with regard to Sypha are coming off to a vampire hunter. Any phrase that calls someone their anything in response to a yes or no question is- suspect.
The bread is abandoned. He's trying to push himself to his feet. ]
Yes. And at this rate, she's going to be the one to reset every broken bone in that hand of yours, and it will take a lot longer than if I do it.
[Sypha, he's sorry. He really is!
There's no sudden movements, no attempt to get Trevor to sit. It would come off as an attack, that much Alucard can guess without putting any effort into it.]
Let me get this right. You're meant to be Dracula's fucking successor, and the best threat that you can manage is that I might get slightly less gentle medical treatment.
[ No wonder there's a power vacuum? God. And also shit, now he has at least the vampire's word that the other human is here by choice he has to deal with. The rest of that information. There's a power vacuum. And he's- basically the ultimate trophy.
There's not a single vampire in the city that's going to fucking kill him, is there? Not when keeping a Belmont trapped but alive is the best symbol of authority there is short of Dracula's stone.
(Which leaves the question of why Alucard threw him out? Because 'is not evil' isn't an explanation he's willing to accept yet. Stupid, maybe. Spoiled and woefully unprepared for the task he's been left with.) ]
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cryptsleeper) wrote2018-11-10 11:26 pm
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[ He's very clearly studying Alucard's face as he says that. ]
Forgive me, I thought perhaps that you shared my fondness for the old stories.
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This is a house of modernity, as you well know. My interest in those things is passing at best, and I think them tiresome when my elders believe they're being cute for using them to needle at me.
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[ This does not seem to be going the way Damian would like. There's no visible clues to that effect, but he's quick to try to bring that topic of conversation to a close. ]
Am I to assume that my gift is unwelcome, lord? Fear not, I do not mean to let such a precious rarity die regardless of your answer.
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I believe you called him tribute, did you not? You cannot use that word in front of me and then take it back.
Drop your leash.
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Of course, my lord.
[ It's clear from that sugary sweet tone that Damian considers this a victory. He drops the leash to the ground and looks to his witness, who watches impassively. The story is clear enough - if the Belmont is seen again, then Alucard has failed to bring an old enemy under heel even when given every opportunity. A sign of weakness. A sign of placing the value of even the most detested of his mother's kind above is father's. And, should the Belmont cause chaos when released, a sign of dangerous incompetence. ]
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So he'll plan to knock the Belmont out cold and then actually look at the injuries. Blood transfusion, that's easy enough once he can determine the correct bloodtype. (Not hard, not with him unconscious.) But after that then...then he'll have to talk to Sypha. She understands the peril of this, but she's more human. More clever than Alucard, if he is being honest.
That neck's been fucked up ten times over. But that's leverage.]
Take care that next time you feed, you're much more subtle. You know very well how things are handled if there are too many suspicious bites on the city's population.
[My father's rules apply. Because continuity. Because stability. Because Damien can go fuck himself with this little ploy.]
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[ The mention of Dracula's own rules knocks him off balance just a little, but he's quick to respond. Because that rule was never made for love of humanity, even if it started being enforced far more strictly after Dracula met his wife. It was made for secrecy's sake. As long as it's someone who won't be missed, and as long as they don't return to the city for those suspicious bites to be seen- well, there's no problem there.
Damian gives a dramatic bow. His companion only nods his head and gives a terse thanks for Alucard's valuable time. ]
If you have no need of me, my lord, then until we meet again. I pray you find my gift to your liking.
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[No thank yous. No farewells. Only Alucard's gaze as the two leave. He will know when they are off the property in due time. The castle communicates in all it's little ways.
But once the doors are closed, once Alucard is sure he is out of earshot, he simply sighs and looks over to Trevor with the greatest and most pained look of total exhaustion on his face.
The Belmonts cause problems wherever they go.
He doesn't move towards Trevor quite yet though. The compulsion will either wear off slowly or all at once. If the latter, he does not wish to be close.]
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He's awake, barely. He's awake but there's not much more he can do about that than to try to drag himself toward Alucard by the fingertips of one hand, snarling as he does. ]
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There's nothing of value gained by lingering on the stairs. All Alucard is being faced with is a half-dead feral cat, which means it is going to hiss and scratch and bite no matter what. He walks down, coming around from behind Trevor because Alucard's not an idiot.
And at that point, he can do nothing else but haul Trevor up by the back of his coat, more like a scruffed kitten than a human at this point, and dangle him just enough so that his feet are off the ground.]
Your instinct was right the first time, I suppose.
[He's mostly just annoyed.]
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...-ing to kill me yet? Sick of this shit.
[ It's mumbled and in Romanian. He doesn't have the presence of mind for English right now. ]
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No compulsion. That's a personal rule, and the most he can do right now is figure out where the Belmont is going to do the least amount of harm: both to Alucard and on the Belmont himself. It seems prudent, and...there is no good place in the castle for that.]
Maybe if he just hangs on like this for a few more moments, the Belmont will just pass out.]
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[A very poisoned chalice. But Trevor having no sense of himself is useful, it means that the Belmont can be dumped into a spare room that has just enough of a sofa in it that the Belmont can be put on hold.
Transfusion first. There's O- in the castle, it's just a matter of going to the right place, getting it out, and then finding the equipment. The wonders of having a doctor of a mother and vampire of a father means that the equipment is easily located and known to be in working order.
Once Alucard has all of that, he returns to the room where Trevor has been dumped, and at this point, he has to remove Trevor's now too big coat. What he sees is about what he expected, a neck bruised to Hell and back, and it's a wonder the Belmont's alive at all. Damien is European, so it's personal.
Idiot didn't feed the Belmont either, that much is clear just from how the clothing hangs off of Trevor's bones. Also fixed. More iron heavy foods, and then figuring out what the hell to do with this problem. (He cannot release Trevor at this point. Alucard also refuses to become a jailer.)
It is a problem he contemplates as he performs the transfusion. Both bags of blood he grabbed are used, and when the needles come out of Trevor's arms Alucard just bandages everything up, moves the equipment aside, and throws Trevor over his shoulder.
There's a few spare bedrooms that have precious little furniture. So Trevor goes into one of those, gets tossed onto the bed, and all the other furniture is removed to avoid quickly improvised stakes.
Whenever Trevor comes to, there is a carafe of water along with a plate of cold meats and bread. No note.
And he is locked in.]
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The rest seems to just be more minor bruises, at a brief glance. The only very noteworthy thing is that the little marks that those needles make are already present on one arm. He's had blood taken from him in that manner, as well as the more traditional feeding. This absolutely will not come up later. ]
mphfuck.
[ He grumbles as he blinks awake. A hospital room? The smell is right- antiseptic and just a little blood. But hospitals tend not to leave food on the floor, unless that's a fucking bizarre American hospital thing.
The first step of solving this mystery is getting out of bed. And possibly- eating the food? It seems like a stupid thing to do, to trust random food from the floor. But fuck, it feels like he's not eaten in weeks. So he ought to get out of the bed.
Which he completely fails at.
There's a loud thump, and Trevor can be found sprawled on the floor. But also determinedly gnawing on a slice of bread, because he's not going to let being unable to stand stop him from BREAD. ]
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All of that is to say that Alucard actually misses the noises that Trevor is awake, and he walks in about five minutes later instead. (Sypha's only holding back because there's a very good chance that needing to have the element of surprise will help. Trevor's in no shape to fight, but that's not stopped him from trying before.)
The door's lock clicks open, and Alucard opens it slowly. No creaking or groaning of hinges, just wary and weary caution. He's down to a shirt and his usual trousers, nothing else, no fanciness to him. The scar is visible through the fabric if it sits on him just the right way, and the imperial haughtiness is gone. It has been replaced with a very weary twenty something who would like nothing more than to just curl up in bed with his girlfriend and read.]
Belmont.
[No ill intent. Just acknowledgement. Just breaking the silence first.]
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Things get fuzzy after that. Something pressing down on his mind. He remembers being stripped and bathed, and a quip about not wanting contaminated food. He remembers teeth against his neck. He remembers being asked questions, and the tiny jeweler's hammer coming down on his hands when he stumbled over the answers. He remembers- chains. There was a chain. Talk of a way to demonstrate the son's unsuitability.
He's tearing at the bread determinedly but with tiny bites - this isn't the first time he's had to slowly become re-accustomed to eating. And there are footsteps. One set of them, as best he can hear. A woman's or a child's, barefoot.
And then the door opens. Not a woman or a child, but the vampire from before - footsteps too quiet to hear. There's someone else there. Does he have a partner, or a hostage, or-
-Shit. This is a feeding cell, isn't it? The nicest feeding cell he's been locked in, certainly, but a feeding cell nonetheless. The second set of footsteps must be another prisoner, and that complicates things. On the one hand, this is fucking fantastic please drain him to nothing and let him die. On the other, he can hardly allow someone else to be kept prisoner in Dracula's Fucking Demon Castle. ]
...seem to not be fucking dead yet. You're really, really shitty at this.
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[He stops at that for now. There's no reason to overload the Belmont with additional information, not yet. His eyes to to Trevor's hand, and there's an internal cringe. Lovely. Probably the least of all injuries anyway.]
Forgive the lack of additional furniture here. Even in your state, I assume your natural instinct would be to improvise a stake.
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[ Not that he can stand up and reach to wrench it off the wall right now. The rest, the rest he is bewildered by. Vampires don't put blood into humans. What the fuck. ]
Don't care about turning. [ And right now, that's true. This is going to be over long before it should be a problem. This should have been over weeks ago. ] Where the fuck is Dracula and why the fuck is there a willowy golden mosquito in his house refusing to kill Belmonts?
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(The rest is tiresome. Alucard walks into the room cautiously.)
My father has been gone from this city for months. No one knows where he is, and for that you seem to have become the victim of the city's politics.
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[ What the fuck. He doesn't move, except to tear into the bread in a way that is probably intended to be defiant and threatening but that's actually just entirely consistent with being hungry. ]
There's a woman outside the door. Is she here by choice, or am I going to need the curtain pole?
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sir that is his emotional support sypha]Sypha is my partner.
[So, no. Alucard's features cross into a deep frown, because God, the Belmont is not up on the times and he hates explaining it.]
And yes, my father. My mother was murdered, and you can imagine how well a man like that handles his grief. Dracula has been absent for some time, and a power vaccuum now rules this city. To say that you could potentially ignite a fire here would be a gross understatement.
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[ Excuse him, he was kind of busy!!! It probably wouldn't occur to Alucard, at least not yet perhaps, how evasive his words with regard to Sypha are coming off to a vampire hunter. Any phrase that calls someone their anything in response to a yes or no question is- suspect.
The bread is abandoned. He's trying to push himself to his feet. ]
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[Sypha, he's sorry. He really is!
There's no sudden movements, no attempt to get Trevor to sit. It would come off as an attack, that much Alucard can guess without putting any effort into it.]
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[ No wonder there's a power vacuum? God. And also shit, now he has at least the vampire's word that the other human is here by choice he has to deal with. The rest of that information. There's a power vacuum. And he's- basically the ultimate trophy.
There's not a single vampire in the city that's going to fucking kill him, is there? Not when keeping a Belmont trapped but alive is the best symbol of authority there is short of Dracula's stone.
(Which leaves the question of why Alucard threw him out? Because 'is not evil' isn't an explanation he's willing to accept yet. Stupid, maybe. Spoiled and woefully unprepared for the task he's been left with.) ]
That's just kind of sad.
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