cryptsleeper | with willpowerful

[Really, she has half a mind to turn the whole thing to water and flood out all the restless guests, but that would also involve flooding Theodora's house and there are some courtesies one does not unwisely spit on.

It's actually rather beautiful how the wall falls away; she's been practicing, clearly, and it goes from a solid figure at first to one fractured and etched like cut glass, before eventually shattering softly in key structural places that make it tumble to the ground like a chandelier falling, contained shards of crystal that make a beautiful noise when they crash down in cascade yet never once stray from the boundary lines she's set for them.]

Yes, of course.

[And there in the yard, she stands, a tiny barefoot thing amidst a crowd of cowed vampires, regent of her small and ephemeral kingdom.]

[It's a very beautiful sight indeed. Alucard's smiling by the time all of the water has fallen away to allow himself and Trevor (and Theodora, she's got a good hustle) to re-enter the property and the party. A real smile, the kind he reserves for when he sees something wonderful and new and inspiring - so the kind that Sypha's magic so often pulls from him.

They're a strange sight on the other side of the ice. Alucard in the middle, his hair windswept but suit otherwise fine. Trevor (The Belmont) still looking just barely presentable, Vampire Killer in hand. Theodora with no blood on her or her all too beautiful dark purple dress, satisfaction on her face. They pass into the party proper, and Alucard doesn't stop until he's at Sypha's side.

It is so magnificent just seeing here there, barefooted and having just prevented a riot of sorts, and when they're home he'll confide all these things. For now, there is business.]

As it stands, we have dealt with the problem. Five hunters from well beyond the city limits who had one of the invitations here slipped under their door. They were unaware of the city's current balance, and thought their attack wise.

[He's calm and cool, speaking with authority.]

They've been seen to. But this combined with what I have heard from many of you confirms that there are those beyond our norms who seek us harm. It is being looked into, and that threat shall be stamped out with no mercy given.

You all know how to get in touch with me, and my doors are open.

[And with that, Theodora decides that tonight is perhaps best concluded. There's no relief on Alucard's face, but inside he nearly collapses with it.]

[She gravitates backwards just a fraction when Alucard starts to speak, just enough to subtly put him at the forefront of the picture they make while she settles back in support, like ceding the imaginary podium to him while the partygoers look on. The explanation of what had happened is as much news to her as it is to the vampires, and she can't help but cast a surreptitious glance at Trevor in quiet astonishment.

That the hunters encroached on the city isn't the bizarre part. It's not even the part about how they somehow missed that there was a Belmont already here. It's the fact that they were invited to come and raid by someone taking a covert hand in this attack, and while they may have caught the instrument of chaos in the form of the hunters, they've missed the influence that spurred them on to do it in the first place.

Still, things wrap up quickly. The festivities are over, and Sypha is half tempted to just abandon her shoes to the parlor and retrieve them later, except that it occurs to her that she'll need them to drive, so she has to go back and get them. When she returns, she's tugging them on one by one, making a little face as they start to press uncomfortably on her sore feet again.]

I will drive us home, unless you think that driving would settle your nerves.

[So she says, quietly enough that even in a room full of vampires, it's for Alucard's ears only.]

[It is not good news to deliver. Alucard already knows what will be thought. "No one would do this if Dracula was still here." "If whoever's responsible is a vampire, maybe we're better off." "God, he didn't kill them, did he?"

He can sit with those thoughts later. There are farewells to take care of first, and apologies to their host to deliver who takes it all with grace. (Darling, Godbrand showed up with a land boat back in 1809 in Quebec, please don't worry about bad party endings.) Alucard's glad that she takes it so easily, but no one else has such a mood.

There are only a few others left by the time Sypha finds them again. Alucard's surveying the damage.]

I'll see us home.

[The drive will help.]

...Yes, all right.

[She says, as she links her arm through his, which is and always will be her right even if right now it's as much about comfort as it is about status. The only time she'll let go, and even then only for a moment, is to pay her own respects to their host on the way out — no sense in not being polite, after all.]

Come, then. Let's go home.

[And when they get to the car, she'll curl up with Trevor, letting Alucard have his space to drive and get himself sorted as he needs, so that he'll be ready to talk by the time they get home, if not sooner.]

[Alucard helps Sypha into the car first. Trevor's go bag is sprawled out on the lawn and must be repacked, so there's just enough time to press a soft kiss to her lips by way of an apology for a truly rotten night. Trevor's in the car soon enough, and home it is.

There is silence from Alucard as they go over country roads, going ever closer to the estate. His father's home is safer after tonight. Better defended. Only a Belmont would dare to approach, and right now, there's one living there. All the wards, all the protections, they respond only to Tepes blood. A fortress.

Quiet continues as the garage door opens. Trevor's out the passenger door first, and he's there to help Sypha down while Alucard goes over and unlocks the door that leads from garage to the house itself.]

Does anyone need food or water before we head upstairs?

[Sypha needs to get out of that terribly heavy dress. Trevor's probably going to claw out of that suit soon. Alucard would really, really like to be in a pair of PJ pants.]

Water for me, please. Or I'll have a headache in the morning.

[Ever helpful, she's already got Trevor pulled down by the lapels so that she can start un-knotting his tie for him. She knows how this goes. Her shoes have already, yet again, been abandoned somewhere — probably kicked into a corner, where they stand a chance of being overlooked by Alucard until the morning.]

I'll just bring a carafe up.

[Trevor's also shed his suitjacket. And the vest. And is working on the shirt because he needs to be freed. Alucard doesn't even comment that he's just thrown everything on the hallway floor. No point, they're all exhausted. He just goes for the kitchen and assembles everything: three glasses, a tray, the carafe filled with ice cold water because they really need it.]

[She slaps at Trevor's hands, preventing him from doing something ridiculous like ripping the buttons straight off of his shirt in his haste to get out of his suit, and starts to deftly undo them herself — a course of action she probably only gets away with because it's actually sort of hot, how expertly she's getting Trevor out of his clothes. The fact that she wastes no time slipping her hands inside his opened shirt and running her palms over his chest is just icing on the cake, really.

She manages to make it last just long enough for Alucard to return, permitting him an eyeful of an absolutely disheveled Trevor with Sypha blatantly feeling him up, and once he's had his look she crosses over immediately to give him the same treatment — albeit more respectfully of his clothes, opening the fastenings while still leaving them technically on his body so that he can sort it out when they get upstairs.]

[....Oh.

That is in fact a very nice thing to walk in on. By a lot. Because Trevor's chest is a total damn weak point that is now pretty much the height of hilarity (Trevor's literally just shoved Alucard's face into his own chest several times when the vampire's looked out of sorts, it's worked.) And Sypha in that dress doing just about anything is bound to hit both of them a little too hard.

Yet for all of that Alucard still blushes like well. Like only he can, because god sometimes they all just need one on one time.

There's just enough time for Alucard to set the tray down. No one's having any fun if he drops it, getting water and glass all over the floor.

Sypha's hands feel wonderful. Warm. And he's still plenty red.]

Edited 2019-01-03 03:31 (UTC)

Treffy is so impatient. But you're so very good for me.

[She delicately works his tie free, leaving the ends hanging around his neck as she starts undoing the buttons of his shirt one by one, working from the one at the throat down.]

You'll hold still and let me do this properly, won't you, my Alucard? Because you know how to behave.

[Is she laying it on a little thick? Perhaps. But Alucard has been forced into day after day of being in control, being dominant, being authoritative. All she's doing is taking up the reins, and making it clear that if she's got them, then he doesn't have to keep them himself.]

Mmm. And there.

[She finishes with his shirt, unfastens the button of his trousers for good measure, and steps back to admire her handiwork with a satisfied grin.]

[He very much would like to point out that all three of them are still. in. the hallway. It's a fact that's being telegraphed across his face for all of five seconds, and Trevor catches it. And he is nearly cracking up for it because the vampire is being absolutely covered in thick affection and all he can think about is the damn hallway floor. It's...so very him, and it's a terribly funny contrast some nights.

But the rest of Alucard would very much just like to melt under Sypha's hands, and he nearly does. There's enough suit undone that he's just standing there a little embarrassed by how quickly he's fallen into all those wonderful touches, and there's the rest of him that's pretty sure that just a single carafe of water is not going to be enough.

(Duh. Ice mage. It's a non-issue.)

Then Trevor laughs again and nudges Sypha pointedly. We should go upstairs before he swoons.]

Mm. Yes, I suppose so.

[She looks the two of them over with a critical eye, appraising their relative level of disheveled undress, and then with a satisfied nod makes sure they're both watching as she reaches up and behind her neck to find the fastening that's holding the halter closed.

She holds there a minute, smiling slightly, and then pushes the pearl button through its loop and lets it free, leaving the top half of her dress held up by gravity and prayer alone.]

There. Now we can go upstairs.

[And she will lead the way, not least of which because it means the boys will only be able to see her back the whole way up, because sometimes a tease is in order and after the night they've all had, they deserve it.]

[Well that's the hottest thing Alucard's seen in the past few days. There's a very tiny choked whimper that gets let out in the slowest possible way, and Trevor has to elbow Alucard to make sure that the vampire's even there.

He seems to be. Enough in his mind that he still grabs the tray with the carafe and water glasses because he's still Alucard even if he's about to forget even that for the night, and Trevor's just shaking his head with endless fondness for this entire damn situation.

It has been a very long and tiring night for all the wrong reasons. At least that much can now be put to rights.]

[Sunday goes by in a blur. It's hardly surprising, given the fact that none of them have any intention of getting out of bed after the catastrophe that was Saturday night, and so the only real movement that occurs is when someone inevitably shuffles out of bed just long enough to retrieve a glass of water or stop by the bathroom or, in one case, hastily prepare enough food for three and halfway consider serving it properly before saying fuck it, the sheets will wash, and bringing it all back to bed.

There's a great deal of doting on Alucard, of course, but there's also plenty of letting Alucard dote right back, in equal measure. Sometimes it's all three of them, and sometimes it's two while the third watches, and sometimes it's two while the third dozes contentedly nearby, until eventually they all fall together into a tangle of limbs and contented sighs.

But soon enough Monday comes, and the time comes to rouse themselves again. While Trevor (and possibly Alucard) peel off for a shower, Sypha shuffles downstairs to check the newspapers and review what they know about the attacks on Saturday's party.

It isn't much. Just five hunters and the mysterious delivery of an invitation. Though if she could get her hands on the actual invitation, there might be something she could magic up to assist — but that would require both digging and a plan, and those things are better left for when all three of them are present.]

[The sheets will wash is also because there are other stains on the sheets to send to the laundry and let the cleaners have Judgmental Opinions on the topic. Sunday is mercifully quiet, and while Alucard says very little, he makes his gratitude known in all ways great and small. And if he falls asleep very early on Sunday then that's the price of all that affection, because they're warm and safe and for a glorious 24 hours, this is the only world they have. The only one that matters.

With Monday there is a much needed shower. Coffee. Soft bathrobes and warmed slippers and just enough quiet that Alucard isn't daring enough to break the silence yet. He puts pancakes down besides Sypha without a word, and he takes the paper wordlessly.

Underreporting. Theodora's doing, probably, and that's a blessing.]

Your car today, I think.

Ah, ah.

[He can have the paper, but she's absolutely going to catch his wrist and tug it back down to brush her lips against the back of it — the toll he must pay for the price of his theft.]

I was thinking Trevor and I ought to look into this business of the stolen invitation. There are things I can make it tell me, I think, if we can find it. And if it hasn't been burned to hide the evidence, of course.

[Alucard can't help but blush. It's a lovely thing to have in the morning, lips right there. (Trevor does it a lot too, so they've clearly been conferencing about things lately.)]

I'm going to presume it has been burnt as evidence. The five were from halfway up the state, so we'd be best off tracking the way they came through the woods last night and seeing if there was a point of safety they were using before mounting their idiocy.

[There's more pancakes to make, so Alucard returns to his station at the cast iron pan.]

And seeing what they might have left behind at that safe place, you mean?

[It would be an absolute crime not to eat these pancakes before they go cold, so she's going to waste no time in doing precisely that, letting them melt on her tongue with an expression of sheer contentment on her face.]

You are going to make me fat, if you keep cooking like this.

Exactly so. If there's any traces of their, hm, let's say patron for lack of a better word, is there, then we're in a much better place than before.

[Alucard's not looking at Sypha. Because there are pancakes to focus on. But he can smile all the same, soft and content and maybe a little lovesick from yesterday.]

If we're going to spend our Sundays like that, I am not going to worry.

Hours of sex does not count as exercise.

[It absolutely does, but that's not the point. The point is to try to make him blush, because these are the fun games we play on Monday mornings after an entire Sunday spent like that.]

Mmmm. There is something bothering me about that, the business of their patron. To have received the invitation at all, it would have had to be a member of the society themselves, isn't that right? Or even just to have known that there would be a party that night at all. But how would someone supernatural contract with five hunters without having those hunters turn on them, themselves?

It does, and we barely ate yesterday. Food is needed.

[The next plate of pancakes is done. Trevor's, if Trevor ever comes back downstairs from the shower. Alucard puts a metal cover over those, then moves on so he can have his already.]

Parties tend to be common knowledge, but that's within the larger community. You know the ecosystem here, after all, it isn't just vampires.

But as for contacting the hunters, there could always be additional proxies. Or else the thing was picked up at some point and just sent through the actual postal service with no additional contact or instructions. Based on conversations, I'm inclined to think that may be what happened.

If Trevor were here, he would say something crude. He's not, but I'm sure he would appreciate it if we pretended he were here and had said it anyway.

[Regardless, she's back to eating, which means her thoughts are interspersed by the light click of fork against plate, and the occasional garbled word because she's chewing around it.]

In short, secrecy and anonymity are, in this case, mutually exclusive. To be truly secret, our patron would have to do everything themselves, but to be truly anonymous, they would have to use middlemen, which creates a trail.

Hm, let's table this for now and when he's back, continue.

[There's the sizzle of batter hitting lightly greased pan, and Alucard's careful not to let the pancakes burn as he uses Vampire Senses to smell for just the right moment.]

Precisely so. That trail is our lifeline. If we can find it. Supposing that whoever responsible is up there in years, they are probably very good at covering their tracks.

Be prepared to say that again, the part about eating, and we will see if I'm right.

[She pokes at her pancakes, sighing happily. There is very little on this earth better than Alucard's cooking, and particularly so when he's feeling inspired, which he seems to be this morning.]

What makes you think it is someone old, and not a young and foolish upstart?

with willpowerful

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