[There's something coming out of the floor, all shadows and spindly legs, and Alucard's already on it with his sword. There's something familiar in it, and he's aware, but then...
...then Trevor is trying to yell at the house and that gives him an idea.]
Trevor! Treat it like the journals, use blood on the handle!
[ They are. They are, it seems, magic developed by the family's oldest enemy. He'll avoid thinking about that later.
For now, despite his denial, he does as he's told and slices into his palm with the knife, placing his hand on the door's handle. It gives, easily, and the daylight returns to the kitchen behind him. A hallway leads ahead. ]
I can honestly say that's the first time someone's decided they want to make me bleed four centuries in advance.
But Alucard will take satisfaction in the fact the shadows all fade. That his theory is right, and that there is no greater threat ahead. His sword finds it's sheath all too quickly, and he smirks in satisfaction.
Not just at his own success, but at Trevor's comment too. It feels good to be back in this rhythm.]
If it makes you feel better, I don't think that you specifically were anticipated.
Well shit, here I was thinking I was worth that kind of effort.
[ He puts his knife away, less because of an understanding that the danger is over and more to press down on one hand with the other to stop the bleeding. He really ought to just have cut his thumb, as he did with the journals. But he was too busy picking a fight with a house to think clearly. At least he won't need to open anything again if the house wants more blood. ]
Congratulations, you're apparently a shittier vampire than the fucking doorknob is.
[ Spend four years with an actual vampire and they don't even make the top fifty list for things that have demanded blood. ]
[There's two laughs at the effort comment, because that's how this kind of thing always goes. Someone breaks the tension with a joke, and the laugh is both real laughter and release.
They're okay for now, and the kitchen was a good place to start. Alucard inspects it all carefully (it's terribly small, but kitchen design does not appear to have changed much in 400 or so years), with special attention to the foodstores. It seems that in this time capsule, even the summer bounty of food is saved but...
...hm. He wonders something to himself, but is yet to voice it outloud.]
I think we can safely bring our equipment in, then take the horses out to the stables.
You're probably right. Safe to assume that we're the first ones here in a while, if there are still traps active.
[ He looks to the bloodied door handle again. Leon. Leon was the exception to all of these traps. It made sense - they must have been set while Mathias was still tending Sara, before hope was lost, and at that time Leon would have been coming and going in search of any remedy or doctor he could find. He'd need to be able to enter and leave safely. ]
I'll stable Useless and his friend. [ Ulysses, Sypha corrects. ] And see if this place doesn't have a more sturdy wagon lying around somewhere. Think the two of you can manage bringing in the essentials? I daresay it'll be safe to leave anything we don't feel like bringing in out in the wagon. This place is deserted.
If the traps are all like this, you're going to be the one who needs to disarm them. I expect going room-by-room shall be demanded of us, which is for the better anyway.
[It only makes sense that this place will respond to Trevor. The more Alucard considers it, the easier the truth reveals itself: this is the castle's prototype. Wilder spells, less refined, intended for another. Youth and brighter days ahead. Less experience and less a need to make a fortress.]
We can do that. I'm curious to find out if the horses are really there, or if we're just hearing echoes of the past when it comes to other living things.
[That goddamn grin. Alucard can only groan at it while Sypha laughs, because Trevor, please have better dreams. This one fucking sucks.]
Go, we'll see you in a bit.
[Which means that as he and Sypha unpack, Alucard asks about stories again - specifically ones where food is important. There's so many, but even in their briefest forms, Alucard grows more and more concerned about what lies in the kitchen.
[ The horses are, in fact, present. Or 'horse', at least. Only one of them. Sara's, most likely, going by the timeline of events she would be the only one who wasn't in any state to ride anywhere, and exactly the sort of overly decorated, delicate thing that one might expect a lady of her station to favour. It eats eagerly when he feeds their own horses, but it doesn't seem to have gone hungry for being left as long as it has.
There is a wagon, not covered but in far better condition than the one they brought. While Alucard and Sypha talk, he explores a little, careful to not get out of yelling range. There is a little dust in the little chapel at the far side of the estate, but only a week or so's worth. He probably wouldn't have even noticed if Alucard weren't so stubborn about keeping the areas of the castle that they lived in practically immaculate.
There is a grave outside it, marked by a simple wooden marker, covered in cut flowers that havn't even started to wilt even after 400 years.
No names on the marker, but it doesn't need one. That would be Sara. Unconsciously, his hand goes to the Morning Star. ]
Horse is real. [ He says on his return. ] Likes feed just as much as either of the others.
[In the time that Trevor has gone to explore the grounds, all of the bags have at the very least been brought into the kitchen. There's a logical assortment of piles ("food" and "weapons" and "weapons Alucard can't touch"), and it has all been coupled with Sypha rolling through story after story of food. Sacred food, cursed food, what happens when you eat what isn't offered.
The consequences, it seems, tend to be dire no matter what. And it means that when Trevor walks back in, all the more informed about what these grounds hold, Alucard is starring down a basket of tiny, plump strawberries with complete and utter suspicion. His arms are across his chest, eyes are narrowed, and Sypha's just watching him do this with a mixture of amusement and real concern.
He doesn't even look up when Trevor walks in. He just keeps with this pointless staring contest.]
That's interesting. No people, but animals are fine. I thought I heard a dog earlier as well, was there any sign of one out there?
[ He frowns, following Alucard's gaze to try to figure out what the problem is. Strawberries. The problem is strawberries. And that is, thankfully, a problem he knows just how to solve. ]
Strawberries pissing you off?
[ Aaaand he grins and reaches out to grab a few. because of course he does. ]
[The word is as sharp and as strong a rebuke as Alucard makes when there's life or death on the line. Or someone is about to do something so amazingly stupid he's going to turn purple. In this case, both apply.
He has enough sense in him for an explanation though as he walks over, moving the berries away from Trevor's grasp.]
Sypha's been going through every story she knows about food. We don't think it's safe to eat anything that's in here.
Well, if it's eating someone else's food that's the problem then. The horse that lives here eating our horsefeed makes it entirely this place's problem.
[ Damn if he doesn't still want strawberries, though. They look really good ]
But further in it must be. Alucard nods in quiet agreement to the plan, his eyes drifting to the only door in the kitchen. It leads to a hallway, probably.]
Really? I've always seen you as more of a feral cat.
[Oh, they're going to do this while walking through the family estate. Because there has to be something for them to do to kill all the tension.
There's no more debate of anything. Alucard calls his sword to him, and goes right for the door.
It's....a hallway. One with simple stones on the floor and lit torches, but just a hallway. Short with no other adjoined rooms save for the next door ahead.]
Have you ever run into a feral cat who doesn't care very strongly about everything under the sun?
[ Because Trevor doesn't care, of course. Four years, and he still maintains that, save for the few times when he doesn't. ]
Well, may as well get this over with if there's anything here.
[ As they get about halfway in, the door behind them closes, the torches go out, and there's the deafening sound of stone scraping against stone. The walls are closing in. Which would probably be fucking terrifying if they didn't know exactly how to stop that. Trevor pushes past Alucard to reach the other door, holding the still-open cut against it. It's enough, and the noise stops. Sypha relights the torches after a moment of silence and he blinks, getting used to the rapid changes from dark to light. ]
Your dad's an asshole. [ And then, remembering that Alucard has the keenest hearing by far out of the three of them. ] -you okay?
That's every cat. Ferals are just more spirited. And warier. The comparison holds.
[It was a better comparison four years ago. He'll stand by it, if only to make this exploration go by quicker.
Alucard's about to go into a fighting stance against...the walls. And he's absolutely keen to take on the walls, blade pushing against them, all until Trevor rushes past and the blood does the trick.
He sighs.]
Yes, yes he was. [Thank you for that reminder, Trevor}
No worse for wear. You may as well open the next door since you're there. This should be some kind of primary hall, if I'm guessing the layout correctly.
[ He takes the handle and opens the door, making sure to use the cut hand. It's not actively bleeding anymore, not so much as to be a problem, but the motion of wrapping it around the door handle leaves red marks over it. Hopefully that's enough.
The door does, in fact, open into a hall. The first door is already open and looks to lead to personal quarters for servants, and the windows of those rooms flood the hall with light through the open door. A large pair of doors a little way up matches about where he'd expect the main entrance to be. ]
It that case I could be a Feral just-about-anything. A feral hedgehog or-
[ There is one door that demands attention, at the far side of the hall. Or rather it demands no attention, to be ignored. The strange feeling of needing to turn back returns, stronger than ever before, and Trevor can barely look at the otherwise very plain door. ]
You have a point on the topic of hedgehogs, but...
[He's right about the hallway. Good, that means the floor plan is straight forward enough. It's probably...better...to use the servant's quarters. There will be fewer memories there. This place could well reflect well worn paths, just as the castle does. (Alucard has never asked the other two if they also see those echoes. If they do, they've never said so. He is happiest living in ignorance on that topic.
The main entrance is clear. There's a staircase that goes to a second floor, but that's more likely to be for defensive measures than...
...he feels the compulsion too. Hisses when it knocks into him, tries to envelop. It partly succeeds.]
We do that now or we do that at the end. Your call.
May as well- [ God, he can hardly get the words out of his throat. He can hear his own voice in his head, contradicting him. Best to leave it untouched. We shouldn't enter at all. Whatever's in there can't be worth the trouble. ] -first. Don't like it fucking with my head.
[ Physically moving toward the door is easy enough, at first, until he passes the main entrance. After that it feels like walking through thick mud, save for that there's no pulling his feet out from it and it envelops his whole body. There's some kind of resistance. By the time he's nearly at the door he's had to close his eyes, because moving toward it while being able to catch it even in peripheral vision is just about impossible. And then when he tries to open it, his hand just stops a few inches away from the handle.
There's nothing physically stopping him, but he can't move any closer. ]
Alucard-
[ -please push his hand against the door. He can't do it himself. ]
[Sypha's being dragged along by Alucard's hand and not much else. This spell, it's trying to mimic the powers of compulsion without actually being a vampire to do it. A detail worth puzzling over later, because moving through this horrible counterweight demands too much energy.
It's a wonder any of them can fight it. They're used to not leaving doors unturned, maybe that's why any of them can manage at all. Alucard's feet nearly slip on the floor for all his effort, and he's sweating by the time his hand take's Trevor's.]
Understood.
[Alucard knows how much that hand ought to weight. It's like lifting twenty men. He strains as he moves that hand to the door. Nearly collapses from the effort of keeping it pinned there.]
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cryptsleeper) wrote2018-11-10 11:26 pm
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...then Trevor is trying to yell at the house and that gives him an idea.]
Trevor! Treat it like the journals, use blood on the handle!
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[ They are. They are, it seems, magic developed by the family's oldest enemy. He'll avoid thinking about that later.
For now, despite his denial, he does as he's told and slices into his palm with the knife, placing his hand on the door's handle. It gives, easily, and the daylight returns to the kitchen behind him. A hallway leads ahead. ]
I can honestly say that's the first time someone's decided they want to make me bleed four centuries in advance.
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But Alucard will take satisfaction in the fact the shadows all fade. That his theory is right, and that there is no greater threat ahead. His sword finds it's sheath all too quickly, and he smirks in satisfaction.
Not just at his own success, but at Trevor's comment too. It feels good to be back in this rhythm.]
If it makes you feel better, I don't think that you specifically were anticipated.
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[ He puts his knife away, less because of an understanding that the danger is over and more to press down on one hand with the other to stop the bleeding. He really ought to just have cut his thumb, as he did with the journals. But he was too busy picking a fight with a house to think clearly. At least he won't need to open anything again if the house wants more blood. ]
Congratulations, you're apparently a shittier vampire than the fucking doorknob is.
[ Spend four years with an actual vampire and they don't even make the top fifty list for things that have demanded blood. ]
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They're okay for now, and the kitchen was a good place to start. Alucard inspects it all carefully (it's terribly small, but kitchen design does not appear to have changed much in 400 or so years), with special attention to the foodstores. It seems that in this time capsule, even the summer bounty of food is saved but...
...hm. He wonders something to himself, but is yet to voice it outloud.]
I think we can safely bring our equipment in, then take the horses out to the stables.
no subject
[ He looks to the bloodied door handle again. Leon. Leon was the exception to all of these traps. It made sense - they must have been set while Mathias was still tending Sara, before hope was lost, and at that time Leon would have been coming and going in search of any remedy or doctor he could find. He'd need to be able to enter and leave safely. ]
I'll stable Useless and his friend. [ Ulysses, Sypha corrects. ] And see if this place doesn't have a more sturdy wagon lying around somewhere. Think the two of you can manage bringing in the essentials? I daresay it'll be safe to leave anything we don't feel like bringing in out in the wagon. This place is deserted.
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[It only makes sense that this place will respond to Trevor. The more Alucard considers it, the easier the truth reveals itself: this is the castle's prototype. Wilder spells, less refined, intended for another. Youth and brighter days ahead. Less experience and less a need to make a fortress.]
We can do that. I'm curious to find out if the horses are really there, or if we're just hearing echoes of the past when it comes to other living things.
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[ He grins that stupid shit eating grin that only comes out when things are normal (or when he's pretending that things are normal). ]
I'll let you know.
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Go, we'll see you in a bit.
[Which means that as he and Sypha unpack, Alucard asks about stories again - specifically ones where food is important. There's so many, but even in their briefest forms, Alucard grows more and more concerned about what lies in the kitchen.
He's also deeply pleased he overpacked on food.]
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There is a wagon, not covered but in far better condition than the one they brought. While Alucard and Sypha talk, he explores a little, careful to not get out of yelling range. There is a little dust in the little chapel at the far side of the estate, but only a week or so's worth. He probably wouldn't have even noticed if Alucard weren't so stubborn about keeping the areas of the castle that they lived in practically immaculate.
There is a grave outside it, marked by a simple wooden marker, covered in cut flowers that havn't even started to wilt even after 400 years.
No names on the marker, but it doesn't need one. That would be Sara. Unconsciously, his hand goes to the Morning Star. ]
Horse is real. [ He says on his return. ] Likes feed just as much as either of the others.
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The consequences, it seems, tend to be dire no matter what. And it means that when Trevor walks back in, all the more informed about what these grounds hold, Alucard is starring down a basket of tiny, plump strawberries with complete and utter suspicion. His arms are across his chest, eyes are narrowed, and Sypha's just watching him do this with a mixture of amusement and real concern.
He doesn't even look up when Trevor walks in. He just keeps with this pointless staring contest.]
That's interesting. No people, but animals are fine. I thought I heard a dog earlier as well, was there any sign of one out there?
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[ He frowns, following Alucard's gaze to try to figure out what the problem is. Strawberries. The problem is strawberries. And that is, thankfully, a problem he knows just how to solve. ]
Strawberries pissing you off?
[ Aaaand he grins and reaches out to grab a few. because of course he does. ]
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[The word is as sharp and as strong a rebuke as Alucard makes when there's life or death on the line. Or someone is about to do something so amazingly stupid he's going to turn purple. In this case, both apply.
He has enough sense in him for an explanation though as he walks over, moving the berries away from Trevor's grasp.]
Sypha's been going through every story she knows about food. We don't think it's safe to eat anything that's in here.
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[ He does look a little disappointed as the berries get taken away. They looked good. ]
I- uh. Fed the horse that lives here while I was feeding ours. Is that going to be a problem?
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[Sorry Trevor. He agrees, it all did look fantastic. As it is, they at least have all of their food, and a decent enough kitchen.]
...Sypha, do animals get impacted by this?
[Apparently, this one's a mystery.]
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Well, if it's eating someone else's food that's the problem then. The horse that lives here eating our horsefeed makes it entirely this place's problem.
[ Damn if he doesn't still want strawberries, though. They look really good ]
Further in, then?
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[Sorry Sypha. It's worth the mean look.
But further in it must be. Alucard nods in quiet agreement to the plan, his eyes drifting to the only door in the kitchen. It leads to a hallway, probably.]
I'll keep going first.
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[ Surly, work-shy, fond of going off in entirely the wrong direction? They're practically twins. ]
I'll- uh. Follow. And bleed on things as necessary, I suppose.
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[Oh, they're going to do this while walking through the family estate. Because there has to be something for them to do to kill all the tension.
There's no more debate of anything. Alucard calls his sword to him, and goes right for the door.
It's....a hallway. One with simple stones on the floor and lit torches, but just a hallway. Short with no other adjoined rooms save for the next door ahead.]
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[ Because Trevor doesn't care, of course. Four years, and he still maintains that, save for the few times when he doesn't. ]
Well, may as well get this over with if there's anything here.
[ As they get about halfway in, the door behind them closes, the torches go out, and there's the deafening sound of stone scraping against stone. The walls are closing in. Which would probably be fucking terrifying if they didn't know exactly how to stop that. Trevor pushes past Alucard to reach the other door, holding the still-open cut against it. It's enough, and the noise stops. Sypha relights the torches after a moment of silence and he blinks, getting used to the rapid changes from dark to light. ]
Your dad's an asshole. [ And then, remembering that Alucard has the keenest hearing by far out of the three of them. ] -you okay?
no subject
[It was a better comparison four years ago. He'll stand by it, if only to make this exploration go by quicker.
Alucard's about to go into a fighting stance against...the walls. And he's absolutely keen to take on the walls, blade pushing against them, all until Trevor rushes past and the blood does the trick.
He sighs.]
Yes, yes he was. [Thank you for that reminder, Trevor}
No worse for wear. You may as well open the next door since you're there. This should be some kind of primary hall, if I'm guessing the layout correctly.
no subject
The door does, in fact, open into a hall. The first door is already open and looks to lead to personal quarters for servants, and the windows of those rooms flood the hall with light through the open door. A large pair of doors a little way up matches about where he'd expect the main entrance to be. ]
It that case I could be a Feral just-about-anything. A feral hedgehog or-
[ There is one door that demands attention, at the far side of the hall. Or rather it demands no attention, to be ignored. The strange feeling of needing to turn back returns, stronger than ever before, and Trevor can barely look at the otherwise very plain door. ]
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[He's right about the hallway. Good, that means the floor plan is straight forward enough. It's probably...better...to use the servant's quarters. There will be fewer memories there. This place could well reflect well worn paths, just as the castle does. (Alucard has never asked the other two if they also see those echoes. If they do, they've never said so. He is happiest living in ignorance on that topic.
The main entrance is clear. There's a staircase that goes to a second floor, but that's more likely to be for defensive measures than...
...he feels the compulsion too. Hisses when it knocks into him, tries to envelop. It partly succeeds.]
We do that now or we do that at the end. Your call.
no subject
[ Physically moving toward the door is easy enough, at first, until he passes the main entrance. After that it feels like walking through thick mud, save for that there's no pulling his feet out from it and it envelops his whole body. There's some kind of resistance. By the time he's nearly at the door he's had to close his eyes, because moving toward it while being able to catch it even in peripheral vision is just about impossible. And then when he tries to open it, his hand just stops a few inches away from the handle.
There's nothing physically stopping him, but he can't move any closer. ]
Alucard-
[ -please push his hand against the door. He can't do it himself. ]
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It's a wonder any of them can fight it. They're used to not leaving doors unturned, maybe that's why any of them can manage at all. Alucard's feet nearly slip on the floor for all his effort, and he's sweating by the time his hand take's Trevor's.]
Understood.
[Alucard knows how much that hand ought to weight. It's like lifting twenty men. He strains as he moves that hand to the door. Nearly collapses from the effort of keeping it pinned there.]
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