[There is an instinctive cringe as Alucard gets a good look at how bad that hand is. He asks Sypha to come in, and soon one cringe is joined by two. It's bad. It's really bad.
Still, Alucard takes it, and he is as ginger as possible as he inspects the full of the damage. Lowly he mutters, my mother would've had Damien destroyed for this, then sighs.]
I rather hope you pass out from the agony of this. It'll be easier for all of us.
And yet if desperate measures are needed? I doubt anyone else fucking remembers how.
[ He grins at that, and it's the grimmest fucking thing there is in a city full of fucking vampires. ]
Good fucking luck with that.
[ He chokes with pain at it, but that grin only grows wider and he doesn't break eye contact with Alucard. This is a fucking contest now. He's going to stay awake out of spite. ]
And Alucard ignores that grin and the eye contact. This requires concentration, and that means nose down, eyes on the impacted body part and impacted part alone.
It is easier to focus on this than everything else tied up in having the Belmont here now. He'll have an unwanted houseguest. He'll have to contain the Belmont, because to let him wander the castle's halls would be to endanger his father and himself. Political pawn as the man may be, he is also still a threat to Alucard's safety if all goes so very wrong. Sypha won't like it, Alucard doesn't already, and they're going to have such a long talk about this when Trevor's...well, contained, because that will be the only thing they can do for the time being.
[ He remains silent, for the most part, and glaring until the thumb. The thumb is the worst, was the worst first time around and remains worst now. The hardest to break, needed a few strikes even with vampire strength behind the blow. The hardest question to answer (where is your family). And the hardest to move back into place. The yell begins halfway through it and it's muffled until he bites through his lip and then it isn't muffled. It continues until he runs out of air and it dies first into choking, and then into silence.
The rest of the work is easier with Trevor passed out. All bones are reset and Trevor will wake up with a plaster cast around his hand and up to his elbow. Sypha gets Trevor's shoes off, and it's at that point she discovers exactly how swollen the ankle is. (It's incredible he could stand at all she manages before Alucard shoots back that it was probably powered through spite.)
But that leaves the question of what do we do? A question that migrates them both to the kitchen where they both very much need something to eat, and the Belmont is left on the bed again.
Except in the heat of debate, the door is unlocked.]
[ He doesn't sleep well, which is likely no surprise. And it's a good thing he has the cast, because he wakes up by thrashing himself onto his side and on top of the bad arm.
Fuck.
He's being held prisoner by a vampire who doesn't fucking know how to vampire, and who's going to get an entire city wrapped up in the bloodier kind of vampire politics because he's too fucking soft.
With some effort (he has to use the wall to support his weight to get close, and then reach up for it while balancing on one foot) he does, in fact, pull down the curtain pole. Not as a stake, just yet, but as a crutch. And he'd been meaning to try to bash the door down but it just- opens.
A vampire who really doesn't know how to fucking vampire.
He doesn't try to get attention, though the sound of his curtain pole crutch is not exactly subtle, instead wandering off in search of something. A writing implement. A surface to use it on - the floor of his 'cell' will function well enough if necessary. And sand, or rice, or salt. Something made up of grains. ]
[They are halfway through yet another circular discussion of how to deal with this man in a way that doesn't scream prisoner but protects the castle from too much exploration that there's a noise. Then Alucard sighing. Then Sypha joining him, because this discussion must be put on hold. The Belmont is awake, Alucard's only halfway done with making dinner, and Sypha's the one who goes to drag the Belmont into the kitchen, in the end.
(One discussion was how exactly did they want to let him meet Sypha, given all the fuss about free will. As it turns out, they don't get a choice in the matter.)
Alucard has just enough time to get a third plate down from the cupboard, and he's doing that by floating when Trevor is guided in. Because what good are vampire powers if you can't use them for the real tasks of life?]
[ Sypha, to her credit, is about as gentle and careful as could be expected. Trevor is not. ]
I wasn't going to do anything stupid.
[ He grumbles, as if he's demonstrated thus far that not doing stupid things is something he has the capacity for. And then he's guided into a chair. And there's a third plate and-
This is the stupidest fucking thing. ]
I feel like you've a fundamental misunderstanding of what it generally means when a vampire invites humans for dinner.
You were going to be mapping this castle for your family's notes. I am not so foolish as to let a Belmont wander these halls freely.
[Three plates it is. Then Alucard walks over to the stove and retrieves a pot from it. Takes the lid off, and there's the scent of fresh rice that overtakes the room. Each plate gets a hearty pile of it, and Alucard's focus is on getting things set, not on dealing with Trevor's mouth.]
My family has no fucking notes anymore. Your father burned the library to ashes.
[ His eyes narrow, but he's not reaching for any of the cutlery, chair legs or his curtain pole. ]
Also, wrong.
[ He was going to map the CITY, thank you very much, and use belmont bullshit to figure out what the state of things is. You know. That thing he should have probably done before all of this happened. ]
Dracula destroyed the Belmont home. Everything inside it, everything below it, and every man and woman and child there.
[ And he says every word very, very slowly, because he doesn't have the greatest faith in the intelligence of a vampire who doesn't know how to vampire. ]
That is physically impossible. My father did not leave this city from the time the war began until it concluded and then some.
[Alucard pauses in his dinner preparation to look Trevor in the eye. Because this is a truth.
And if that is a truth, then he has accidentally forced Trevor to confront one even more terrible. If this destruction was not done by his father, then that home is also a casualty of the water.]
There are hunters in the city with no love for him that will vouch for the presence of Dracula here. My father was certain that Europe's plague would spread to the Americas, and he would not see this place destroyed for it.
That means nothing. You know that means nothing. He could have done it in a matter of hours.
[ He says that, but- he's still not reaching for the cutlery. He believes himself when he's drunk. He doesn't when he's sober. He knows full well that the Belmont home was just another casualty of Romania's defiance of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. A remote, self-sufficient stronghold that looked a little too much like it could house soldiers. ]
Your family would know better than any other how vampires fare with ocean crossings, Belmont. Even at my father's age, such a trip would take weeks.
[Alucard returns to getting dinner on the table. Chicken comes out of the cast iron skillet, large leg and thigh quarters for each plate. There are steamed collards taken from another pot, and that too goes on the plate.
It's terrible, the contrast. But it is how things are. Alucard puts the plates down at the table (there are, helpfully, four chairs at the round table), and then goes to grab a third set of utensils.]
[ He doesn't have a good argument any more, only a stubborn refusal to admit that a legacy of nine centuries could end in seconds at the hands of anything other than Dracula himself.
There are other concerns. His presence here means that he broke the truce, not Dracula, and that the man is free to return to Europe without consequence (that had been the deal. The Belmonts would not give chase, would leave the Americas to their cousins, and his shadow would not darken Europe's shores). Right now that seems a distant concern.
This is loss he knows deeply. It's why he doesn't speak. There's never the right words, everything is terrible and trite and it makes the whole ache even worse. His home stood, the Belmont's did not. Alucard cannot imagine he'd be any better in that grief than the man before him.
The very most he can do is pull out the chair closest to Trevor and get him to sit down. He shouldn't be standing on that ankle at all, it'll just make the injury worse.
He's inflicted the worse injury of all though, hasn't he? Physical wounds, those heal. This will not.]
[ He sits, leaning the curtain-pole-crutch against the empty chair. And he just holds his face in his left hand for a long time. He can feel Sypha staring at him, can feel her infuriating pity and sense as her hands occasionally rise up and almost touch his shoulders before falling back to her knife and fork and poking at her food.
He has thoroughly ruined dinner. ]
Do you really think that you can keep this shit under control?
[ His food is getting cold by the time he speaks, and he isn't looking at anything at all. ]
[There are quiet glances exchanged between Alucard and Sypha. To walk another through this process, it is something they shall simply have to do. Alucard will worry at Sypha about taking on more emotional burdens (she has his already, he still feels guilt for it), and they will discuss the matter quietly when the Belmont cannot hear them.
But it also means leaning another person's expressions of grief, when they need company, when they need space. Trevor is a mystery for now, and it shall be the rockiest roads going forward.
Alucard is also the only person capable of eating, it seems, because he does it without much issue.]
Bluebeard. That was who came out victorious from the power struggle in Europe after Dracula left. It was a bloodbath. He didn't follow Dracula's rules, didn't enforce any of his own. Spring-Heeled Jack came after him, and the Ripper after that, about a decade before I was born. We had to break our own rules to keep them all under control. Flooded entire cities with incense. Burned about a fifth of London, in the end, to be rid of Spring-Heel because he would have done so much worse.
[ It's easier to talk about this. Easier to focus on the horrors that they managed to defeat, on the ones that are yet to come, than on the ones of the present. ]
[Amazing. The Belmont's hit upon the subject the other two manage to discuss in quieter tones, acknowledging exactly how much that it's an unwanted thing. Alucard's face is stone cold by the time Trevor's asked again, and now he really has ruined dinner.]
It is me or it is chaos. The decision was made the moment my father left this house.
[That's the terrible weight of it. The truth he's avoided because recovery. Because grief. Because he still doesn't want this.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cryptsleeper) wrote2018-11-10 11:26 pm
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[There is an instinctive cringe as Alucard gets a good look at how bad that hand is. He asks Sypha to come in, and soon one cringe is joined by two. It's bad. It's really bad.
Still, Alucard takes it, and he is as ginger as possible as he inspects the full of the damage. Lowly he mutters, my mother would've had Damien destroyed for this, then sighs.]
I rather hope you pass out from the agony of this. It'll be easier for all of us.
[So he begins on resetting the first finger.]
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[ He grins at that, and it's the grimmest fucking thing there is in a city full of fucking vampires. ]
Good fucking luck with that.
[ He chokes with pain at it, but that grin only grows wider and he doesn't break eye contact with Alucard. This is a fucking contest now. He's going to stay awake out of spite. ]
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[Because Florence would.
And Alucard ignores that grin and the eye contact. This requires concentration, and that means nose down, eyes on the impacted body part and impacted part alone.
It is easier to focus on this than everything else tied up in having the Belmont here now. He'll have an unwanted houseguest. He'll have to contain the Belmont, because to let him wander the castle's halls would be to endanger his father and himself. Political pawn as the man may be, he is also still a threat to Alucard's safety if all goes so very wrong. Sypha won't like it, Alucard doesn't already, and they're going to have such a long talk about this when Trevor's...well, contained, because that will be the only thing they can do for the time being.
He keeps working in silence.]
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He has, in fact, passed out. ]
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The rest of the work is easier with Trevor passed out. All bones are reset and Trevor will wake up with a plaster cast around his hand and up to his elbow. Sypha gets Trevor's shoes off, and it's at that point she discovers exactly how swollen the ankle is. (It's incredible he could stand at all she manages before Alucard shoots back that it was probably powered through spite.)
But that leaves the question of what do we do? A question that migrates them both to the kitchen where they both very much need something to eat, and the Belmont is left on the bed again.
Except in the heat of debate, the door is unlocked.]
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Fuck.
He's being held prisoner by a vampire who doesn't fucking know how to vampire, and who's going to get an entire city wrapped up in the bloodier kind of vampire politics because he's too fucking soft.
With some effort (he has to use the wall to support his weight to get close, and then reach up for it while balancing on one foot) he does, in fact, pull down the curtain pole. Not as a stake, just yet, but as a crutch. And he'd been meaning to try to bash the door down but it just- opens.
A vampire who really doesn't know how to fucking vampire.
He doesn't try to get attention, though the sound of his curtain pole crutch is not exactly subtle, instead wandering off in search of something. A writing implement. A surface to use it on - the floor of his 'cell' will function well enough if necessary. And sand, or rice, or salt. Something made up of grains. ]
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(One discussion was how exactly did they want to let him meet Sypha, given all the fuss about free will. As it turns out, they don't get a choice in the matter.)
Alucard has just enough time to get a third plate down from the cupboard, and he's doing that by floating when Trevor is guided in. Because what good are vampire powers if you can't use them for the real tasks of life?]
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I wasn't going to do anything stupid.
[ He grumbles, as if he's demonstrated thus far that not doing stupid things is something he has the capacity for. And then he's guided into a chair. And there's a third plate and-
This is the stupidest fucking thing. ]
I feel like you've a fundamental misunderstanding of what it generally means when a vampire invites humans for dinner.
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[Three plates it is. Then Alucard walks over to the stove and retrieves a pot from it. Takes the lid off, and there's the scent of fresh rice that overtakes the room. Each plate gets a hearty pile of it, and Alucard's focus is on getting things set, not on dealing with Trevor's mouth.]
I'm half vampire, and I need normal meals.
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[ His eyes narrow, but he's not reaching for any of the cutlery, chair legs or his curtain pole. ]
Also, wrong.
[ He was going to map the CITY, thank you very much, and use belmont bullshit to figure out what the state of things is. You know. That thing he should have probably done before all of this happened. ]
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...Sorry, what was that accusation?
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[ And he says every word very, very slowly, because he doesn't have the greatest faith in the intelligence of a vampire who doesn't know how to vampire. ]
He. Broke. The truce. And that is why I'm here.
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[Alucard pauses in his dinner preparation to look Trevor in the eye. Because this is a truth.
And if that is a truth, then he has accidentally forced Trevor to confront one even more terrible. If this destruction was not done by his father, then that home is also a casualty of the water.]
There are hunters in the city with no love for him that will vouch for the presence of Dracula here. My father was certain that Europe's plague would spread to the Americas, and he would not see this place destroyed for it.
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[ He says that, but- he's still not reaching for the cutlery. He believes himself when he's drunk. He doesn't when he's sober. He knows full well that the Belmont home was just another casualty of Romania's defiance of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. A remote, self-sufficient stronghold that looked a little too much like it could house soldiers. ]
He could still have done it.
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[Alucard returns to getting dinner on the table. Chicken comes out of the cast iron skillet, large leg and thigh quarters for each plate. There are steamed collards taken from another pot, and that too goes on the plate.
It's terrible, the contrast. But it is how things are. Alucard puts the plates down at the table (there are, helpfully, four chairs at the round table), and then goes to grab a third set of utensils.]
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[ He doesn't have a good argument any more, only a stubborn refusal to admit that a legacy of nine centuries could end in seconds at the hands of anything other than Dracula himself.
There are other concerns. His presence here means that he broke the truce, not Dracula, and that the man is free to return to Europe without consequence (that had been the deal. The Belmonts would not give chase, would leave the Americas to their cousins, and his shadow would not darken Europe's shores). Right now that seems a distant concern.
He just stares at the food. ]
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This is loss he knows deeply. It's why he doesn't speak. There's never the right words, everything is terrible and trite and it makes the whole ache even worse. His home stood, the Belmont's did not. Alucard cannot imagine he'd be any better in that grief than the man before him.
The very most he can do is pull out the chair closest to Trevor and get him to sit down. He shouldn't be standing on that ankle at all, it'll just make the injury worse.
He's inflicted the worse injury of all though, hasn't he? Physical wounds, those heal. This will not.]
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He has thoroughly ruined dinner. ]
Do you really think that you can keep this shit under control?
[ His food is getting cold by the time he speaks, and he isn't looking at anything at all. ]
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But it also means leaning another person's expressions of grief, when they need company, when they need space. Trevor is a mystery for now, and it shall be the rockiest roads going forward.
Alucard is also the only person capable of eating, it seems, because he does it without much issue.]
Yes.
[The lie is easier the second time.]
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[ It's easier to talk about this. Easier to focus on the horrors that they managed to defeat, on the ones that are yet to come, than on the ones of the present. ]
Are you really sure?
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It is me or it is chaos. The decision was made the moment my father left this house.
[That's the terrible weight of it. The truth he's avoided because recovery. Because grief. Because he still doesn't want this.]
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[ You could have just told him the truth in the first place and he wouldn't have needed to bring it up! Says trevor, expert at telling the truth. ]
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[Hey Belmont how about shut up.]
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You have choices. You're just not taking any of them. Because you're a shitty vampire.
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[He's not leaving his own table for this!]
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