[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.]
[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.
[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?
This could quickly degrade into discussions of eating other things. Fair warning.
[There. Time to flip, and the spatula moves quickly to make sure that everything's turned over in time. Alucard always serves himself last, it's basic politeness, but he really is getting hungry now.]
I don't, not really. Both are options, but I'm banking on the former because it feels...more right. He's not the only vampire from Europe to come to America late and struggle in finding a good swath of territory. There's a few in Canada that would probably be interested.
[Excluding Godbrand because So Many Viking Sites there.]
[It makes her laugh, though, more out of fondness for Trevor than any particular approval of the subject material in question.
Still, she sobers quickly, when something he says stands out to her, and she glances down at her pancakes for the sake of not looking at Alucard directly.]
This...isn't really his territory anymore, though. Is it? It's...yours now. So is someone moving against him, or against you...? I think that question needs an answer, also.
[The pancakes are off the cast iron pan and onto Alucard's plate. That also means that he's just seated himself as Sypha paws and parses through things said and...
...well. Fuck.
He reaches for the maple syrup first.]
Still his, as he isn't deceased nor has he specified that the claim is given up. Just missing in action. [The pancakes may be drowned in syrup today.]
Which is the other reason I assume it to be someone older. No one young is actually that stupid.
Then that should narrow the suspects greatly. Most of the elders aren't that stupid, even. It would have to be someone with a combination of old enough to have amassed that sort of power, but brash enough to think they could succeed.
[CSI: New Orleans. Here they sit, profiling their mysterious foe over breakfast.]
And also, despite being old, familiar enough with modern developments to use them to advantage. Some of the old ones do not bother to adapt to the times, do they.
They don't like the far and frozen north, do they? I suppose the weather here alone would be enough of an excuse to try to come south.
[Besides, people have to bundle up in the north, to keep warm. More bundling means less exposed skin, means less advantage when it comes to picking a meal. Warm climates come with the benefit of encouraging that sort of revelry.]
...You know that —
[She stops short, hesitating a minute as she mulls over a thought, and then carefully advances.]
Our investigation today has to find something. Whether we really do or not. Because people will be watching to see if we are able to address this or not, so today must be a success. Or at the very least everyone must think it is.
There's been earlier and smaller encroachments that have been impossible to respond to because the acts are simple. Almost childish. Homes with crosses thrown into the windows during daylight hours, that sort of thing. Mostly happening on the edges of town, to those who generally decline a more active social life in the city.
[There's a sigh from Alucard, already weary.]
This was testing the waters to see how we respond. So we must be wise in that. Otherwise the next thing, that will have a real death toll.
In short, a response too extreme in either direction would work against us. To not respond adequately enough would suggest that we cannot defend our own territory. But a disproportionate answer would make it seem as though we are scared, or perhaps hiding a greater weakness behind a show of strength.
[She reaches across the table, palm-up, looking for his hand.]
The eternal balance. And smokescreen, for that matter.
[That hand doesn't find Sypha's. He's focused on getting the rest of his pancakes in him before the idea of eating churns Alucard's stomach too much. They are very good pancakes, although he'd prefer if there were blackberries at the market right now. Much tastier to have them in the batter.
The eternal thought is also there, weighing in Alucard's mind. No one would be stupid enough to attempt this if Dracula was still present in the city.]
Doubtlessly Belmont records can be crosschecked for age in order to produce an actual list. Although I expect certain friends of his would be better up to date.
[After a minute, when he doesn't reach for her, she subtly turns her hand over and curls the fingers in, surreptitious and nonchalant. It's a little awkward to leave it there, near him, but worse still to have to pull it back, so she focuses instead on eating her pancakes one-handed as well.]
What a shame we sinned all through Sunday, instead of allowing him to go to church.
[Because she sounds so penitent about that, oh, yes.]
Well, perhaps they will forgive him a belated visit. Should we all go, or just drop him off while you and I go back to the forest?
[Under the table, there's a very, very soft nudge from Alucard. He saw the hand he just. Everything's tiresome already. He'll take her hand later. In the sunshine.]
Oh, I imagine that they'll forgive him. If he misses things, then it's a whole heavenly host of speculation for them, and I imagine that counts as a blessing.
[They're a little too on the nose, those Church Ladies.]
We need him for the work. Also, I think knitting is at 3 today, and I expect to be done by then.
[She doesn't take her hand back, still, but the nudge is at least reassuring. She'll move the next opportunity she can get to do it casually; for the time being, the pancakes are soft enough and sufficiently saturated in syrup to break them apart one-handed with the edge of the fork.]
Then it seems as though we have a plan. And all that remains is to get some breakfast into Trevor, so that we are all ready to go at once.
[There's the tell-tale sign of a thudding noise coming from the general direction of the stairs. Alucard hums in approval, and by the time Trevor's actually down and in the kitchen, Alucard has made sure that the cover on Trevor's plate is removed, there's two very, very strong cups of coffee at Trevor's place, and they're all about as content as they're going to be today.]
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no subject
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.
no subject
[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.
no subject
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.]
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[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.
no subject
[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.
no subject
[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?
no subject
[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.
no subject
[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.
no subject
[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.
no subject
[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?
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[There. Time to flip, and the spatula moves quickly to make sure that everything's turned over in time. Alucard always serves himself last, it's basic politeness, but he really is getting hungry now.]
I don't, not really. Both are options, but I'm banking on the former because it feels...more right. He's not the only vampire from Europe to come to America late and struggle in finding a good swath of territory. There's a few in Canada that would probably be interested.
[Excluding Godbrand because So Many Viking Sites there.]
no subject
[It makes her laugh, though, more out of fondness for Trevor than any particular approval of the subject material in question.
Still, she sobers quickly, when something he says stands out to her, and she glances down at her pancakes for the sake of not looking at Alucard directly.]
This...isn't really his territory anymore, though. Is it? It's...yours now. So is someone moving against him, or against you...? I think that question needs an answer, also.
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[The pancakes are off the cast iron pan and onto Alucard's plate. That also means that he's just seated himself as Sypha paws and parses through things said and...
...well. Fuck.
He reaches for the maple syrup first.]
Still his, as he isn't deceased nor has he specified that the claim is given up. Just missing in action. [The pancakes may be drowned in syrup today.]
Which is the other reason I assume it to be someone older. No one young is actually that stupid.
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[CSI: New Orleans. Here they sit, profiling their mysterious foe over breakfast.]
And also, despite being old, familiar enough with modern developments to use them to advantage. Some of the old ones do not bother to adapt to the times, do they.
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[Okay, enough drowning the pancakes. Time to eat them.]
Most of the ones here stay abreast, if only because it's easier to expose one's identity these days if you don't.
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[Besides, people have to bundle up in the north, to keep warm. More bundling means less exposed skin, means less advantage when it comes to picking a meal. Warm climates come with the benefit of encouraging that sort of revelry.]
...You know that —
[She stops short, hesitating a minute as she mulls over a thought, and then carefully advances.]
Our investigation today has to find something. Whether we really do or not. Because people will be watching to see if we are able to address this or not, so today must be a success. Or at the very least everyone must think it is.
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[Dragging Godbrand is a global sport.]
I'm aware. [Alucard's a little too aware. He stuffs some pancakes into his mouth so that he has the excuse of food to be quiet for a few seconds.]
And everyone else will be searching for holes, so whatever we present must be absolute and complete.
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[She sighs a little.]
Whoever is behind this, they will strike again, won't they. This will not be just an isolated incident.
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[There's a sigh from Alucard, already weary.]
This was testing the waters to see how we respond. So we must be wise in that. Otherwise the next thing, that will have a real death toll.
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[She reaches across the table, palm-up, looking for his hand.]
Neither defensive nor aggressive, but assertive.
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[That hand doesn't find Sypha's. He's focused on getting the rest of his pancakes in him before the idea of eating churns Alucard's stomach too much. They are very good pancakes, although he'd prefer if there were blackberries at the market right now. Much tastier to have them in the batter.
The eternal thought is also there, weighing in Alucard's mind. No one would be stupid enough to attempt this if Dracula was still present in the city.]
Doubtlessly Belmont records can be crosschecked for age in order to produce an actual list. Although I expect certain friends of his would be better up to date.
[He loves the Church Ladies.]
no subject
What a shame we sinned all through Sunday, instead of allowing him to go to church.
[Because she sounds so penitent about that, oh, yes.]
Well, perhaps they will forgive him a belated visit. Should we all go, or just drop him off while you and I go back to the forest?
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Oh, I imagine that they'll forgive him. If he misses things, then it's a whole heavenly host of speculation for them, and I imagine that counts as a blessing.
[They're a little too on the nose, those Church Ladies.]
We need him for the work. Also, I think knitting is at 3 today, and I expect to be done by then.
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[She doesn't take her hand back, still, but the nudge is at least reassuring. She'll move the next opportunity she can get to do it casually; for the time being, the pancakes are soft enough and sufficiently saturated in syrup to break them apart one-handed with the edge of the fork.]
Then it seems as though we have a plan. And all that remains is to get some breakfast into Trevor, so that we are all ready to go at once.
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[There's the tell-tale sign of a thudding noise coming from the general direction of the stairs. Alucard hums in approval, and by the time Trevor's actually down and in the kitchen, Alucard has made sure that the cover on Trevor's plate is removed, there's two very, very strong cups of coffee at Trevor's place, and they're all about as content as they're going to be today.]