[It's better to do this together. And probably better to do it without Trevor, because Dracula is still his family's Dracula, not just Alucard's dad. Not discussing family particulars has always been an agreed upon and respected boundary.]
To the surprise of exactly no one, I'm sure.
[Alucard would never call that fight meeting-his-father in any dating sense of the concept, but he would admit that the lavishness, the over-the-top nature shone through a little too clearly.
The door was never locked. Why would it have been? His mother had simply closed it when returned to Lupu, and...Alcuard still didn't know if his father ever came back here.
What catches his own eye first though is the thing on the nightstand. It smells. And...he groans like he's still a teenage boy, mortified.]
[She peeks, and then abruptly she spots them too — dishes, a mug, left to languish there on the nightstand for goodness knows how long. She doesn't even want to get close to them, from how absolutely rank they probably are inside, but thinking about them for too long makes room for realization to start to set in, and then the affront just turns into a sort of rueful melancholy.]
...Oh.
[She wraps both her arms around one of his, holding on to him for support.]
Always did this. Complained the kitchen was too far away, and then they'd snipe about the growing pile of stuff on the nightstand.
[Strangely enough, there's more warmth in Alucard's tone than sorrow. It's there, oh yes, but it isn't dominant. There's a soft noise, a not quite a laugh, and Sypha's warmth just lets him speak freely.]
I've never been sure he even came back in here.
[It's painful over two years later. (He counts the year that he was forced to rest.) The immediate aftermath...he can't even imagine.]
[No different, she muses, than the elbow wars that ensue between them over breakfast, or the bedroom kicking in search of a better portion of blanket, or complaints about Trevor's laundry or how long Alucard takes brushing his hair in the morning or her habit of stealing food off of other people's plates when she thinks no one is watching.
It's better that Trevor isn't here for this, indeed. Being in this bedroom makes Dracula so much less of a vengeful force of evil and so much more of just a man, and a father, and a husband.]
...Perhaps that's how your mother could be so sure that we would find her papers where she thought they would be. Because no one...would have moved them.
I wasn't allowed the same privilege. I once dragged an entire deer into my room out of spite for it.
[That had been the worst laundry day, but it had been worth it because of his mother's face. The shock of seeing the sight, the anger of ignoring a particular rule, and the yes, my son's still half-vampire I should have expected this.
But going through all of this, it doesn't hurt as much as Alucard expected it to. That dream was more than just the castle's fate, it was closure in a way that he never, ever anticipated the luxury of closure would be offered to. Grief had lifted more than just slightly.
His fingers don't touch anything yet. He instead muses on Sypha's words, nodding along.]
Yes, that's likely. And I know there was never any locked storage here in this room, so the only option are drawers or stuck under something.
[He'll earn himself a nudge for that, even as her teasing comes with the probable intent of trying to help keep his mood light.]
Mm. So the question is, where would your mother have kept such a thing. Someplace where she could get to it easily, surely. She would be the only one who would've needed documents like those, yes? Because your father wrote them down for her to begin with.
I'm glad to see you have carried the tradition for very stupid arguments on through the present day. Though I hope you have lost your attachment to eating whole deer in the bed.
[She tips her head to the side, pressing a kiss against his shoulder, before tugging him over toward the bed so that they can examine the nightstand together.]
Mm, do you want to know a funny secret? I like furniture with little drawers in it, like this. I think it's fun, to have a little place to keep treasures in close at hand.
[Bedroom furniture being, of course, an almost nonexistent commodity in the Speaker lifestyle.]
Some things are very much inherited. Dramatics, if you two are anything to go by, and stupid arguments. [He is not dramatic. They're just biased.] There will never be an animal in bed. You have my word.
[She can make a joke about it too, if she'd like. But for now, he'll take that kiss so happily. Sypha knows she can drag him all over creation too, so there's no hardship in going over to the nightstand - save for the smell.]
[You better believe she's absolutely going to go for it. Fortunately, there are more important things to do here than standing around making innuendo — like exploring this little nightstand drawer.]
Mm, it's not as though a society of nomads had much need for fixtures like these. They're designed to stay still, and we are made for moving around.
[Still, she's delighted as she curls her fingers around the drawer knob and slides it open, peering inside with eager curiosity at the assortment of handkerchiefs, candle stubs, matchsticks, and wide, flat box covered in black velvet.]
...Hmm, that doesn't look like something that would hold papers, does it...
[But someone had to do it. Either way, Alucard is carefully observing from behind Sypha as the drawer opens. It isn't as if he expects something to leap out, but he knows that sometimes memories are triggered by little things. Scent is one of them, and here and now, mixed with all the dust, is something much more familiar. Herbs and refined medicines and just a little too much soap because cleanliness was important for his mother's work. (Just not the dishes.)
What's in there is very normal. The box is probably jewelry. (Her wedding ring is long gone.) For completeness's sake, Alucard picks it up carefully.]
[She's careful in the way that she asks, resting a hand on his arm as she turns her attention to him fully. On one hand, the search is important and they both clearly want to be thorough about it, but on the other...
Everything in this room is a remnant of his mother. And boxes like that aren't meant for mere trifles. There's a memory in there, and possibly a strong one, and she's here as much for moral support as to actually assist in the poking around. If he doesn't want to face it, she'll find a means of ensuring that he doesn't have to.]
I could look first, just to see if there's paper inside. And if not we could leave it alone.
[There is not, it turns out, paper inside the box. There is, however, precisely what one might expect to find in the sort of case that would evidence jewelry — a necklace, massive and ornate almost to the point of being gaudy, but for the fact that the absolutely breathtaking craftsmanship pulls it back from the ledge of being so. It's the type of piece that belongs in a collection amidst the crown jewels of a nation, wrought with red gemstones set in an unusually lightweight, silvery metal — cleverly, so as to minimize the weight on the neck of the wearer without sacrificing any of the ostentation.
It's a necklace fit for a queen. Quite possibly, it was designed specifically to rival any that currently exists in the coffers of any royal currently on the earth.
[Very, very carefully, Alucard reaches out and puts a single finger to the metal. Silver would be heavier, but this box already weighs a ton.
There's no burning. There's nothing at all, and a very small smile flicks across his face at that. Leave it to his father to just be like that. To have something like this made and then set it all in faux silver.]
Nor is it silver.
[A wedding present, if Alucard had to make a guess. Anniversary if not that. Either way, this is too intimate for him to be looking at, and so the box is simply set down on the nightstand.]
[It's a good thing he puts it away when he does, or Sypha would have to get in on this jewelry-poking action, wide-eyed and fascinated by the treasure they've discovered.]
...It's beautiful. It must have been special to her, that she kept it so close at hand, and not with her others.
[...Oh.]
Because I assume she must've had...many others...
[Presuming that Dracula was anything like his son when it came to EXTRAVAGANT GIFTS, which is not that far of a leap, considering he had to get it from somewhere.]
...Knowing them both, that's an entirely fair assumption.
[His father was Like This. And that is the long and short of it all.]
Wedding or engagement. Those would be my guesses.
[He's been thinking about both. As beautiful as that necklace is, it is also hardly practical. His mother kept it on hand, so very close to them both, and the piece was more statement than meant to be worn.]
...We should look for a painting of it. Not now, but...sometime. Something like that is made to be seen — I'll bet there's one around somewhere, of her wearing it.
[But they're not here for darkness, they're here for unbreaking the castle. So that's her cue to riffle quickly through the rest of the contents of the drawer, just to confirm their suspicions.]
[Wedding or engagement portrait? It's an absolute possibility. And as Sypha goes through what remains in the drawer, Alucard bends down because there's another logical place to keep things: under the bed.
He's still at a bad angle though, so what this really requires is him getting down on his stomach and looking properly. Dust bunnies, dust bunny village, dust bunny wastelands...two boxes. One on either side of the bed it seems, their ends butted up against each other.]
I think I found a second option. Can you please step back so I'm not under foot?
[She says, waggling her eyebrows at him before obligingly backing up to give him his space. She's half-tempted to crouch down with him, but one look at the dust bunny apocalypse underneath there quickly dissuades her from the notion; she's sneezy enough already, as it is.]
The dust bunnies put up no fight as Alucard pulls the box out. It's not terribly fancy, just wood covered in dust. A lot of it, thicker than the rest of the room. No one ever dusted under the bed, so it isn't a terrible shock.
He doesn't blow all the accumulated dust off either - that'd be rude. All he does is sit up on the floor, and lift the lid carefully.]
[She's in no position to be making that demand, either.
Now she hunkers down, however, crouching at his side to peer in as the lid is lifted. This box is considerably bigger than a slender, elegant jewelry box; that's probably a good sign.]
...Journals?
[The top layer, at least. Three plain journals of the make and design that Lisa favored, along with some looseleaf sheets tucked underneath.]
[The sheets are where Alucard goes first, the journals gently placed atop the box's lid for the time being. With the box firmly in his lap, the sheets are unfolded very, very carefully.
Not that he need treat any of this like a relic. The paper is sturdy. Hardly ancient. The ink is still wonderfully dark and crisp, making it easier to read.]
Starting here makes more sense, the information was written down and then given.
[And indeed, what only Alucard will immediately notice is that the handwriting on the looseleaf isn't his mother's neat, compact lettering, but letters with more of an elegant flourish — Vlad's.
The good news is, they seem to be on the right track.
The bad news is, the top sheet is definitely a love letter, with a few paragraphs along the top to serve as introduction for what appear to be a handful of short verses centered on the page below it.]
And then there's the fact that his father was the most over the top vampire to ever vampire, which means that the top sheet is handed to Sypha almost immediately because Alucard is not about to read that.]
Neither of you get to complain about anything I say or do romantically ever again.
[There's poetry. Real poetry. Too much poetry, really.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
To the surprise of exactly no one, I'm sure.
[Alucard would never call that fight meeting-his-father in any dating sense of the concept, but he would admit that the lavishness, the over-the-top nature shone through a little too clearly.
The door was never locked. Why would it have been? His mother had simply closed it when returned to Lupu, and...Alcuard still didn't know if his father ever came back here.
What catches his own eye first though is the thing on the nightstand. It smells. And...he groans like he's still a teenage boy, mortified.]
Mother.
[Dishes. The fucking dishes.]
no subject
[She peeks, and then abruptly she spots them too — dishes, a mug, left to languish there on the nightstand for goodness knows how long. She doesn't even want to get close to them, from how absolutely rank they probably are inside, but thinking about them for too long makes room for realization to start to set in, and then the affront just turns into a sort of rueful melancholy.]
...Oh.
[She wraps both her arms around one of his, holding on to him for support.]
He left it...the way that she did.
no subject
[Strangely enough, there's more warmth in Alucard's tone than sorrow. It's there, oh yes, but it isn't dominant. There's a soft noise, a not quite a laugh, and Sypha's warmth just lets him speak freely.]
I've never been sure he even came back in here.
[It's painful over two years later. (He counts the year that he was forced to rest.) The immediate aftermath...he can't even imagine.]
no subject
[No different, she muses, than the elbow wars that ensue between them over breakfast, or the bedroom kicking in search of a better portion of blanket, or complaints about Trevor's laundry or how long Alucard takes brushing his hair in the morning or her habit of stealing food off of other people's plates when she thinks no one is watching.
It's better that Trevor isn't here for this, indeed. Being in this bedroom makes Dracula so much less of a vengeful force of evil and so much more of just a man, and a father, and a husband.]
...Perhaps that's how your mother could be so sure that we would find her papers where she thought they would be. Because no one...would have moved them.
no subject
[That had been the worst laundry day, but it had been worth it because of his mother's face. The shock of seeing the sight, the anger of ignoring a particular rule, and the yes, my son's still half-vampire I should have expected this.
But going through all of this, it doesn't hurt as much as Alucard expected it to. That dream was more than just the castle's fate, it was closure in a way that he never, ever anticipated the luxury of closure would be offered to. Grief had lifted more than just slightly.
His fingers don't touch anything yet. He instead muses on Sypha's words, nodding along.]
Yes, that's likely. And I know there was never any locked storage here in this room, so the only option are drawers or stuck under something.
no subject
[He'll earn himself a nudge for that, even as her teasing comes with the probable intent of trying to help keep his mood light.]
Mm. So the question is, where would your mother have kept such a thing. Someplace where she could get to it easily, surely. She would be the only one who would've needed documents like those, yes? Because your father wrote them down for her to begin with.
no subject
[He nudges back, a thin smile on his face. Sypha's attempts are working wonders at keeping the mood from the past four days lingering.]
Nightstand is my first guess. That's an easy enough thing to check.
no subject
[She tips her head to the side, pressing a kiss against his shoulder, before tugging him over toward the bed so that they can examine the nightstand together.]
Mm, do you want to know a funny secret? I like furniture with little drawers in it, like this. I think it's fun, to have a little place to keep treasures in close at hand.
[Bedroom furniture being, of course, an almost nonexistent commodity in the Speaker lifestyle.]
no subject
[She can make a joke about it too, if she'd like. But for now, he'll take that kiss so happily. Sypha knows she can drag him all over creation too, so there's no hardship in going over to the nightstand - save for the smell.]
Really? [Noted.]
no subject
[You better believe she's absolutely going to go for it. Fortunately, there are more important things to do here than standing around making innuendo — like exploring this little nightstand drawer.]
Mm, it's not as though a society of nomads had much need for fixtures like these. They're designed to stay still, and we are made for moving around.
[Still, she's delighted as she curls her fingers around the drawer knob and slides it open, peering inside with eager curiosity at the assortment of handkerchiefs, candle stubs, matchsticks, and wide, flat box covered in black velvet.]
...Hmm, that doesn't look like something that would hold papers, does it...
no subject
[But someone had to do it. Either way, Alucard is carefully observing from behind Sypha as the drawer opens. It isn't as if he expects something to leap out, but he knows that sometimes memories are triggered by little things. Scent is one of them, and here and now, mixed with all the dust, is something much more familiar. Herbs and refined medicines and just a little too much soap because cleanliness was important for his mother's work. (Just not the dishes.)
What's in there is very normal. The box is probably jewelry. (Her wedding ring is long gone.) For completeness's sake, Alucard picks it up carefully.]
Unless the paper was folded...
no subject
[She's careful in the way that she asks, resting a hand on his arm as she turns her attention to him fully. On one hand, the search is important and they both clearly want to be thorough about it, but on the other...
Everything in this room is a remnant of his mother. And boxes like that aren't meant for mere trifles. There's a memory in there, and possibly a strong one, and she's here as much for moral support as to actually assist in the poking around. If he doesn't want to face it, she'll find a means of ensuring that he doesn't have to.]
I could look first, just to see if there's paper inside. And if not we could leave it alone.
no subject
no subject
It's a necklace fit for a queen. Quite possibly, it was designed specifically to rival any that currently exists in the coffers of any royal currently on the earth.
And predictably, Sypha's just. Gawking.]
That's...definitely not paper.
no subject
[Very, very carefully, Alucard reaches out and puts a single finger to the metal. Silver would be heavier, but this box already weighs a ton.
There's no burning. There's nothing at all, and a very small smile flicks across his face at that. Leave it to his father to just be like that. To have something like this made and then set it all in faux silver.]
Nor is it silver.
[A wedding present, if Alucard had to make a guess. Anniversary if not that. Either way, this is too intimate for him to be looking at, and so the box is simply set down on the nightstand.]
I don't think I ever saw her wear this.
no subject
[It's a good thing he puts it away when he does, or Sypha would have to get in on this jewelry-poking action, wide-eyed and fascinated by the treasure they've discovered.]
...It's beautiful. It must have been special to her, that she kept it so close at hand, and not with her others.
[...Oh.]
Because I assume she must've had...many others...
[Presuming that Dracula was anything like his son when it came to EXTRAVAGANT GIFTS, which is not that far of a leap, considering he had to get it from somewhere.]
no subject
[His father was Like This. And that is the long and short of it all.]
Wedding or engagement. Those would be my guesses.
[He's been thinking about both. As beautiful as that necklace is, it is also hardly practical. His mother kept it on hand, so very close to them both, and the piece was more statement than meant to be worn.]
But no notes in there.
no subject
[But they're not here for darkness, they're here for unbreaking the castle. So that's her cue to riffle quickly through the rest of the contents of the drawer, just to confirm their suspicions.]
Empty. Just odds and ends, in here.
no subject
[Wedding or engagement portrait? It's an absolute possibility. And as Sypha goes through what remains in the drawer, Alucard bends down because there's another logical place to keep things: under the bed.
He's still at a bad angle though, so what this really requires is him getting down on his stomach and looking properly. Dust bunnies, dust bunny village, dust bunny wastelands...two boxes. One on either side of the bed it seems, their ends butted up against each other.]
I think I found a second option. Can you please step back so I'm not under foot?
no subject
[She says, waggling her eyebrows at him before obligingly backing up to give him his space. She's half-tempted to crouch down with him, but one look at the dust bunny apocalypse underneath there quickly dissuades her from the notion; she's sneezy enough already, as it is.]
Tell me if you need help pulling.
no subject
[Just a reminder, Sypha.
The dust bunnies put up no fight as Alucard pulls the box out. It's not terribly fancy, just wood covered in dust. A lot of it, thicker than the rest of the room. No one ever dusted under the bed, so it isn't a terrible shock.
He doesn't blow all the accumulated dust off either - that'd be rude. All he does is sit up on the floor, and lift the lid carefully.]
no subject
[She's in no position to be making that demand, either.
Now she hunkers down, however, crouching at his side to peer in as the lid is lifted. This box is considerably bigger than a slender, elegant jewelry box; that's probably a good sign.]
...Journals?
[The top layer, at least. Three plain journals of the make and design that Lisa favored, along with some looseleaf sheets tucked underneath.]
no subject
[The sheets are where Alucard goes first, the journals gently placed atop the box's lid for the time being. With the box firmly in his lap, the sheets are unfolded very, very carefully.
Not that he need treat any of this like a relic. The paper is sturdy. Hardly ancient. The ink is still wonderfully dark and crisp, making it easier to read.]
Starting here makes more sense, the information was written down and then given.
no subject
The good news is, they seem to be on the right track.
The bad news is, the top sheet is definitely a love letter, with a few paragraphs along the top to serve as introduction for what appear to be a handful of short verses centered on the page below it.]
no subject
And then there's the fact that his father was the most over the top vampire to ever vampire, which means that the top sheet is handed to Sypha almost immediately because Alucard is not about to read that.]
Neither of you get to complain about anything I say or do romantically ever again.
[There's poetry. Real poetry. Too much poetry, really.
He's...going to keep looking.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)