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.
[His suffering is not in vain! The other sheets seem more promising at first glance, as these ones have diagrams painstakingly inscribed on them with little figures that look like gears — and then, jackpot, one of the twenty-sided figure that represents the control mechanism for the castle's movements.
Unfortunately, Sypha being Sypha, she's reading the letter.]
It's not all romantic. There are also some very strong opinions on peasants.
[Which is a basic fact of being around his father. Moreover and more to the point though are the pages he has now, and he spreads each out on top of the box carefully. Then nudges Sypha with an elbow, real excitement in his voice.]
These are the pages in questions. The gears were things I already understood, but the actual control mechanism has always been beyond me. This was meant for...[He turns one of the pages over.] Emergencies, and specifically for someone not used to doing magic, never mind controlling an entire castle.
"There, you see, Lisa, I have crafted my love into verses, as these peasant men do while they toil all day in their fields."
[She recites, just to belabor the point, before carefully setting the love letter aside onto the mattress and moving to look at the diagram pages with him, instead.]
...Could your mother do magic, to begin with? She loved science so much, it's hard to imagine her tolerating something like magic, and a spell will always fail if you don't first believe it can succeed...
[At least it's said with a groan and a laugh. Because it is funnier rather than anything else, and there's still so much weight of just being in here.]
Not to my knowledge. But she was stubborn and hardheaded, and if intent is the foundation for magic then I doubt that there would have been too great a struggle.
At any age, I would have wanted to help her move it.
[He never did, of course. He understood so many of the mechanics that went into the castle, what kept it running. Gresit was testament to that. But moving the castle was something else entirely and....
...and as good and as soft and as lovely as Sypha's hand is (and he leans into it so very much), there's a note that catches his eye in particular.]
I think I found the part that you broke the hardest.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[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.]
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[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.]
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[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...
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[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...
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[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.
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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.
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[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.
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[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.]
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[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.
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[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.
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[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?
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[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.
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[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.]
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[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.]
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[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.
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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.]
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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.]
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Unfortunately, Sypha being Sypha, she's reading the letter.]
It's not all romantic. There are also some very strong opinions on peasants.
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[Which is a basic fact of being around his father. Moreover and more to the point though are the pages he has now, and he spreads each out on top of the box carefully. Then nudges Sypha with an elbow, real excitement in his voice.]
These are the pages in questions. The gears were things I already understood, but the actual control mechanism has always been beyond me. This was meant for...[He turns one of the pages over.] Emergencies, and specifically for someone not used to doing magic, never mind controlling an entire castle.
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[She recites, just to belabor the point, before carefully setting the love letter aside onto the mattress and moving to look at the diagram pages with him, instead.]
...Could your mother do magic, to begin with? She loved science so much, it's hard to imagine her tolerating something like magic, and a spell will always fail if you don't first believe it can succeed...
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[At least it's said with a groan and a laugh. Because it is funnier rather than anything else, and there's still so much weight of just being in here.]
Not to my knowledge. But she was stubborn and hardheaded, and if intent is the foundation for magic then I doubt that there would have been too great a struggle.
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[She hums a little, lifting a hand and resting it gently on Alucard's back, between his shoulder blades.]
If it were to protect you, I am sure she would have done anything. Even moved a castle with magic she had never used before.
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[He never did, of course. He understood so many of the mechanics that went into the castle, what kept it running. Gresit was testament to that. But moving the castle was something else entirely and....
...and as good and as soft and as lovely as Sypha's hand is (and he leans into it so very much), there's a note that catches his eye in particular.]
I think I found the part that you broke the hardest.
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[So much for that pleasant backrub he was about to get, because now it's a little slap instead. Cheeky!]
And it's the castle's fault, anyway, for fighting me so much!
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