cryptsleeper | 20s AU Post

20s AU Post

Current Carmilla plot outline
--Post-fire, Carmilla and Mr. Peanut team up mostly to use each other. Carmilla's spent the past several months (since November, it is now February 1925) networking, and it's clear to her that Alucard's not suited for the position and that the other two are the obvious weakness. Mr Peanut needs something back, so this is perfect on her end. Mr Peanut can only imagine the joys of vampire blood in his work, and he'd like an army of vampires for his own ends.
--Shit stirring from Mr Peanut (all of March?)
--Mr Peanut also begins to sell mis Miracle Serum, which has vampire blood in it.
--Gang is very much trying to murder Mr Peanut during this.
--Start of April, vampire gets a call from one of the blood bank contacts that 3 patients have come in and are displaying some bizarre signs. Investigation yields the fact that they're in process of turning, and they've all taken the same serum.
--Additional investigation reveals O FUCK IT MR PEANUT
--Meanwhile Carmilla's been made aware of a familiar she didn't sire, so she knows something's up. Big fight with Mr. Peanut and thus Mr. Peanut is left depowered
--Gang commits a murder
--Carmilla's well sured up on her contacts now, and it's time for open rebellion (mid-April)
--In a more subtle attempt to let Alucard just step aside, she cuts the breaks on demon car and shows up to gloat/suggest he not pull a dad and go to deal with his grief quietly while she runs the city. The how he wants to do it is up to him (black widow joke goes here.) Treffy and Sypha walk in.
--1 week of straight up rebellion; feedings, no help from allies, need to do damage control instead of fight carmilla, every dracula rule is
--MEANWHILE IN GRAVITY FALLS, triangle shows Vlad what's up to try and psyche him out, somehow this finalyl snaps Vlad out of his depression and he heads home
--Just in time for Alucard and Carmilla to be tearing each other to bits in one of the bayous, it's not going well
--Vlad coming in means the king of vampires is accosted by a belmont with a pair of blessed knitting needles and a speaker with a fucking gun and he's just like what the shit happened to the world while i was gone
--Wards around the fight means that only demon car can break the wards, everyone has to pile in.
--Carmilla gets her ass kicked AND SENT TO THE JUSTICE DIMENSION

THEN THERE WERE FAERIES.
--Prior to all of this the vampire and Sypha have done a shit ton of research on how to get their Belmont back
--Sypha has also been practicing debating with dad, which leaves everyone Very Tired.
--When Trevor is actually snatched up (1 year after marriage, it takes fae effort. Taking Arn's shape fails, so it's a lot more kidnapping by force), Sypha and Alucard go into Faerie
--But they're playing this as politics, not as heroes rescuing their damsel, so that means the faeries are just "wait what now excuse u?"
--There are 3 gates and 3 trials (the particulars we're still bullshitting.) Each is asked to sacrifice 3 things. (Alucard: voice, his titles as bestowed upon by his father and his people, i forget the third; Sypha: her human form (she's a birb), fuck what were the other two)
--They enter the court at the end of the third trial. After LITERALLY ALL THE TITLES Sypha declares she Speaks for Trevor Belmont
--Claim debate over Trevor, turns out that the rules are in Sypha's favor.
--But that means debating to leave Fae without giving up what they've chosen.
--Sypha lawyers it all out, Alucard is a safety deposit and hangs out with Fae!Trevor
--In the end, safe passage out of Faerie consists of Sypha giving up her memory of the necromancer (billed as a great mage she studied under), the vampire gives up his immortality, and Trevor is replaced with Carmilla (dad was aware of this option and OK with it), but Trevor has his ability to swear taken. He now soundslike a rubber ducky when he tries
--Everyone gets home okay, except for the AU of this AU where the gang fails, but Trevor's on their doorstep like a bat out of Hell because time doesn't work right and he's been in Hell for a WHILE.

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[Alucard absolutely saw that reaction. But he's also well aware that now is not the time to spring upon it, and that the Belmont really needs an evening to get his head together.

He sighs as Trevor stands. His entire stupid face is still concerned, and it looks even worse now.]

I hope that sleeping helps. I'll be down here for most of the night if you need me.

[ He needs more than an evening. He would quite like an entirely new head, thanks. ]

I'm glad you're both here to take care of each other. God knows what a shitshow this would be if you weren't.

[ And with that, he leaves the garage, heading unsteadily to his room and triple-checking that the door is locked before he heads into the bed.

At least confession won't be fucking boring. ]

Mmm, there are not many of those in New York City, are there? Parks, I mean. The area is so small, and so full of tall buildings.

[But what's most important about this storytelling is that Alucard is talking about his mother in a way that doesn't seem to be dragging up tears. And that's a rarity so precious that she doesn't want to call attention to it, even, for fear that even looking at it will shatter it somehow.]

What was in the museums?

The Metropolitan Museum is in one of the parks, technically.

[Alucard's careful as he tries to move forward again. It's an easier movement now, but he's much more interested in this memory.]

Paintings, naturally, but beyond that there were ancient sculptures that I had never seen before. Not just Greek and Roman things either, but material from both the Near and Fast East. The things from the Near East were...beyond words. Dripping in lapis lazuli that was so dark blue I got lost in it.

Needless to say, I was on my own to explore during the day.

I think you're — ah, you're my, my dark consorts, by now...

[Or something. No one here is innocent, so that rules out the maidenly everything, and no one is dominating control of this, which means there are no minions. She'll still accept the role of dark queen, however, just because it suits her well. She's a very good dark queen, frankly. Almost a dark goddess, even, with how the two of them have settled in to worshiping her.]

Mmm. This is better than —

[Hold that thought long enough for a little gasp, punctuated by a shiver and then a sigh against Alucard's mouth, all but purring into the kisses she's stealing.]

Than, ahm, than running away to make dinner, isn't it...

[Oh shit, he does actually have to make dinner at some point.]

It is-- [And the vampire would say more, but that is becomes a hisssssss of delight, because Trevor's hand on his thigh is just so much, and he just wants to keep being touched. There. Right there. Theretherethere. His hips buck just a little bit more for it, even as the rest of the vampire tries to keep up with kissing Sypha.

She's making such wonderful noises, but then he remembers something so very, very important. It means pulling away from Sypha and all her wonderful kisses, but it can be forgiven.]

I think that our dark mistress made a particular request.

[He's breathing heavily just saying the words. It takes effort to lean over. To try and direct Trevor's mouth to his, because she wanted to watch, didn't she? See them kiss up close and personal.]

[ Agatha grumbles as she makes her way up the stairs. That dramatic man, can't show up anywhere without making a scene, can he? She makes no effort to slow Trevor and Sypha's descent.

He grabs Sypha's wrist again at the end of the stairs, racing in and tossing both her and the medical kit toward Alucard, putting himself between Dracula and the both of them as those hands coil around Carmilla, squeezing her until she can't be seen from outside of them. And then the shaking stops. The darkness is gone, and with it both Dracula and Carmilla.

More than that, though Sypha wouldn't recognise it, the old building is gone. There are no silver shackles in this basement. No blood on the floor. The rooms upstairs, if investigated, would be tastefully decorated bedrooms and not torture chambers. The only clue as to what's happened is that Agatha's chair has gone missing. Because Dracula didn't take Carmilla anywhere. Dracula recreated the building's glamour and moved the rest of them into it, leaving himself and Carmilla in the house of death.

From above, there's a sound of a key in a door. The house of death is locked. Rendered inaccessible. ]

[ Oh, they'll probably notice that they're hungry later. But for now, for now this is so much more important. ]

Virtue wasn't all that great anyway.

[ He has to hook his chin over Sypha's shoulder to be able to reach Alucard's mouth, and so his throat is pressed against it. It moves as he sighs and swallows, falling still for a moment to actually breathe properly before he lets Alucard guide him to his lips. He rolls his hips as he does, the motion of it pushing Sypha forward just slightly to brush against his fingertips with each movement. ]

[Sypha has been back in their arms for five days now. There is a point in time where the clinging will lessen, when they will surround each other the more normal amount, when the vampire will be moved to the middle because the weather is unbearable, but that time is not now. Their Sypha, theirs, has so much rest ahead of her and what can either of them do but keep her as safe as possible in order to make sure she can recover.

The vampire barely slept when she was gone. He’s only sleeping now because it can be done in shifts, and because he’s catching up on a lost week. It is enough to eclipse dreams, until it isn’t.

He doesn’t sleep nearest the door anymore. Protecting the three of them, physically at least, is a job Alucard feels unqualified for in light of all of this. He simply lays down with Sypha’s back against his chest, her tiny hands balled up into the fabric of Trevor’s PJs, and he sleeps as well as he can.

Alucard is not sure of where he is. It is a forest, each pine tree cloaked in black, reaching up against a night sky. The full moon does so little to help with making sense of the place, and the forest floor provides no help as to the season. His breath does not cloud in front of him, but there is still a chill in the air.

What Alucard does not have in knowledge of where, he at least knows why he is here. The necromancer’s voice is ringing out just ahead of him, and beyond that there is something else. Something that thunders in a way that Alucard has never heard before, not even among his vampiric elders. It is in the same direction of the necromancer’s voice, and so the vampire has no choice: he follows.

He’s not saying anything comprehensible. Alucard’s not sure if that’s his rage or a thing the necromancer has done on purpose, mastering the art of sounds that might be a language but well and truly aren’t. There are flashes of the man through the forest, and the vampire gives chase until the thing thundering in the distance is not so distant anymore.

Why the name comes so easily to him, Alucard can’t say. Theodora only spoke of it once, laughed a witch asked her of her time with the Wild Hunt and remarked “it would never survive on these shores, darling! An entire cadre of fae or King Arthur’s people or leftover worshippers of Artemis? The things that were here before us would have a fit!” But Alucard knows that’s what he’s witnessing. A stream of purple intent that glitters in the moonlight is wrapped around a retinue that emerges from the dark woods is the Hunt’s herald. It is lead by a black stallion whose mane looks like it has the whole of the galaxy in it, and on that stallion’s back is a woman dressed in the deepest royal purple. Even her hair is the same color, pulled back into elaborate braids to avoid being a nuisance in the hunt itself. Every inch of her drips in gold and silver.

And the necromancer is there. He is there several horses down now, riding like a proud nobleman and looking every inch the part. He’s not in his suit anymore, he’s in the clothes that everyone thinks medieval folk wore and...

...and Alucard is as well for that matter, black trousers the same but his usual white dress shirt is replaced with something longer in a dark grey, belt around his waist. The coat he should have on is now a red one, fur trimmed and looking far too much like old paintings of his father.

He is so still as the Hunt passes by. Then it strikes him: they’re not pursuing quarry. They are returning. They have been successful.]

So good to me.

[She's caught nice and snug between Trevor and Alucard at this point, by virtue of the way they're all tangled up together in pretty little knots, and even if that means she's largely left at the mercy of the others for her pleasure, it's hard to really mind it much. Not when Alucard's skin beneath her questing fingertips is so smooth and cool to the touch; not when Trevor, beautiful boy that he is, goes out of his way to make it even better for her with the teasing promise of friction. It's perhaps not the most elegant way they've all fooled around, to be sure, but it's proving to be precisely what she needs right now — to be wrapped up and surrounded by the both of them, equal parts cherished and treated to the delectable sight of watching them enjoy each other.

She presses the flat of her hand against Alucard's abdomen, rubbing lightly before reaching around behind him to drag her nails along the column of his spine, watching sidelong as Alucard's mouth finds its way to Trevor's and pulls him into a kiss just inches from where she is herself. It's even better to be in the midst of them than it had been earlier, watching imperiously from afar.

Almost before she even realizes it, whispered praise is spilling from her lips, soft enough that it's not disruptive, but certainly still audible with how close they both are to her.]

Look at you, look at you both. My Adrian, so radiant. My Trevor, so handsome and good...

[She squirms a little, as best she can, raking her nails against Alucard's skin, shivering contentment as Trevor hits up against her just right.]

You're mine, the both of you. All mine.

[ If Alucard has dreamed this before, Trevor has always been human. Always the same man on the other side of the bed, between the two of them and the door, meant to be awake but so, so tired, enough even to fail at his watch.

He isn't this time.

The black horse, the queen's, goes first. The brown follows it, bearing the necromancer, its reins those shadow hands around its neck. And then follows the milk white horse, and the creature atop it is not quite the same man from the other side of the bed. It's Trevor, just about visible beneath a long shroud painted with moth wings, but perfect and scarless, eyes somehow both dull and lifeless and too bright at the same time. Unlike the others, he doesn't guide his horse. Instead it simply follows the others, his wrists bound to its saddle with the vampire killer.

He does not turn to face Alucard. ]

Your father could not go out in the day, yes? And your mother was at the conference.

[There's something about the notion of Dracula being confined in a hotel room until nightfall that's somehow absolutely delightful, even if Sypha's never actually seen the interior of a hotel room except in pictures before.]

Things brought here from all the way on the other side of an ocean. Can you imagine what it must be like to travel so far? Farther even than Trevor did, coming to us.

[That's his Belmont.

The thought hits Alucard before he can register how he knows it. Smell, he imagines, because that's a consistent thing with everyone. Natural PH balance and all of that, a million ways to classify the concept but one simple fact: Trevor always smells like Trevor, be it after a week of stank or being right out of the shower.

Alucard tries not to hiss at the cosmetic changes he's witnessing. Witnessing and not moving to follow, because there's such a long line of horses behind as well. His Belmont shouldn't be wrapped up in a shroud, his Belmont's scars should be left alone as a testament to his survival. He's liminal now, that's what he is. Neither fully their Trevor nor the thing the fae demand he be.

He's a wolf. Easier to follow a train like this as a creature of the forest. Easier to make loud huffs and be shrugged off.]

[There is a terrible and deep moan forced against Trevor's mouth when Sypha decides that his chest isn't as interesting as his back and proceeds to rake her nails down his back. It's coupled with a shudder, making it clear that the vampire could stand so much more of that. Perhaps it's unfair to Trevor, forcing all of these stupid noises against his mouth, but it simply is what it is.

The praise though, fuck if that doesn't make Alucard's already barely controlled kisses even sloppier. No time to dwell on the why of it, all Alucard knows is that it helps all the heat building up inside of him build even faster, and the one hand he has free searches for where to rest on Sypha. This angle is absolutely horrible, but he needs so much more of her. She's pressed against him, yes, but that's not the same as grabbing. Holding. Clinging, because he's halfway clinging to Trevor but that's only Trevor.

His hand settles just below her breast, where ribs are obvious again. He holds, holds fast, and tries not to fall over Sypha's shoulder entirely because kissing the Belmont, Alucard's own hips thrusting forward, Sypha's hands and her perfect fucking words are getting to be too much.

There's a point where he has to stop kissing Trevor. The noises coming out of him require too much air, and when he does, it's almost mortifying how loud he is.]

[ He doesn't understand why he is here.

Or, no. He knows why he is here. He is here because a century ago a contract was signed in blood. It was decided long before he was born that he would sit upon this horse. Perhaps it would me more accurate to say that he doesn't understand how he is here, when a few moments ago he was- it's hard to say, but somewhere else. Somewhere important. Somewhere he needed to be, because he served a purpose there. And now he is here.

There is no sense in trying to escape. He doesn't know where he came from. He wouldn't be able to find his way back.

Ahead lies- he could not say, could he? He sees a wide field of shallow water over mud, the reflection of the moon bright upon it. Alucard likely sees something else. The Necromancer likely sees something else. Perhaps even the queen sees something there. The only real constant is that he must ride across it, to whatever waits at the other side, too far off to see, and the others will not go with him.

The wolf was not there before, and he looks down at it for only a moment. It's familiar, somehow. Was there a wolf, before he was here? ]

[Tossing is an accurate verb for it; she's hurtling faster than she would be running otherwise, thanks to the benefit of Trevor's added force, and as she gets to their vampire's side she has to actively remind herself that no matter how contrary to her natural instincts it might be, what she needs to focus on right now isn't the chaos all around them, but Alucard. Trevor will already be moving to protect her, she knows. Trevor will never let anything hurt them.

Which means that she has to put notions of fear out of her head, and focus on what matters instead. Alucard, in the basement of a monstrosity the same way she once was. Alucard, who needs her now like she'd needed him then.

He's a mess, and the wound to his thigh is an immediate problem from how close it's gotten to the artery. Carmilla's morningstar has left his trousers in tatters, which is actually almost a blessing because it makes it that much easier for her to assess the state of the wound.

(He wouldn't want her to touch his blood, she remembers grimly. They may not have that luxury, this time.)

He's a mess, he's unconscious and concussed and torn all to shreds, but he's still breathing. He's still breathing, and her own breath escapes her all in a rush, relief and horror and fright all mixed into one.]

Trevor, I don't know if we should move him...

[It's a question that's really meant to ask several different ones. Where is he, are they safe, what's happened. Do they even have the chance to bother trying to treat him here, or is the grim reality of the situation that they need to go whether they like it or not.]

[The wolf considers the moment carefully. As a wolf, he can run easier. As a wolf, it is harder to undo the chain that is Vampire Killer. As a man, he is easier to notice. As a man, he has his sword and can slice through the sacred whip without a problem.

He and Sypha have been studying the legends as the first step of many to prepare to make sure their Trevor remains theirs. Sypha needs details on the contract's exact words, Alucard has been pouring over accounts for what to do when arguing doesn't work and they have to do something drastic.

(It would help if he wasn't Regent, wouldn't it? Doing something like this is an act of war...)

To hell with everything but the Belmont. The past year has been nothing but horrible things taking those he loves the most from his fingers. (He sees the bishop in the distance. The vampire growls, even as bile tries to come up his throat.) In a moment his sword is out, and he lunges not for Trevor, not for the horse, but for Vampire Killer itself, Alucard's deft swordsmanship cutting the bindings as if they were nothing at all.]

Correct. It was nice, exploring a new city under my own steam. There were a few mages there, looking at the things behind glass in the Egyptian section and taking notes.

[Dracula was absolutely stuck in the hotel room the entire day, and it was during the summer to boot. He did not enjoy this.]

I cannot. And these are things thousands of years old. Uncovered in tombs and under centuries of rock and [there's a happy sigh, and the vampire's careful when he reaches the end of the pond. He brakes!]

Trevor would hate it, but I'd like to take you one day.

[ The thin silver thread at the core of Vampire Killer catches the moonlight, the leather around the cut becoming unbraided. The cut ends of the whip burn the ground where they fall as surely as if it were demon flesh. The queen stops and all of her knights stop with her, the necromancer and the bishop and Damien and every other thing that would serve her in taking away the things that he loves, from the horrible things of the vampire world they inhabit to the horrible things of the human one. Monsters as great as his father and as small and pathetic as a man who had jeered at Sypha once as she told fortunes and told her that her people should not be in this city.

They watch him and turn to circle him as Trevor, no longer supported by the whip binding him, topples from the white horse. ]

[Alucard doesn't have any time to acknowledge the sea of staring eyes. If he stops, he dies and Trevor is taken away with greater haste, and that's not allowed. Only the vampire can decide what's allowed, he's sick of other people making that choice for him.

His sword isn't even in it's sheath. He only rushes forward, forward, forward with his arms outstretched so he can catch the Belmont in the same kind of embrace that Alucard adores being carted around in when the situation is vice versa.

There will be a tightly circle around him when Trevor's in his arms. Alucard knows that. They'll eat his blade. They can have his flesh for all he cares, but not their Trevor.]

Mine first.

[ The voice is calm and even. It's small, but it's the kind of small voice that silences all other sound. Its owner rides the Queen's horse, and the queen herself is nowhere to be seem. They look a little like Sypha, in the dark like this, but a second glance shows that their hair and skin are darker. Their robes are similar to the ones she wears sometimes, a design that never changed much over the years, but they are white, waterlogged and stained with mud and blood at the bottom. ]

He was mine first.

[ And Trevor, Trevor who can only look up at Alucard in confusion, looks up in recognition. But the figure on the queen's horse looks only at Alucard. ]

Would you take him from me?

To Egypt?

[It's a good thing they're both slow as balls when it comes to this skating thing, because it's a good excuse to keep pace with each other, which means the conversation can continue without it getting lost in the distance that would result between them when the different lengths of their strides inevitably separated them.]

Or to New York?

Not by choice.

[Alucard has Trevor in his arms, and he holds so tight and so fast that he has to remind himself air is important. That relaxes his grip only slightly, because Alucard remembers stories like this. (The particulars are not with him right now.) His right hand still clings to his sword.

When he meets the Queen's eyes it is not full of the fury the necromancer saw. It is with a deadly calm, the kind of thing that's probably worse. It means that Alucard's not acting on instinct. On this there has been calm and careful thought, and his anger is fueled by certainty.

She's not Sypha. That's easy enough to bear in mind.]

In a heartbeat. He chose us.

...Yes?

[Alucard knows that answer, at least.]

New York would be easier. Trevor hates the weather at home, Egypt would be a nightmare.

[He turns around very carefully, waiting for Sypha to pick what way they shall go next.]

Don't move him.

[ If this place is safe, then it's better to do what needs to be done here than to go outside where there will be witnesses. If it isn't safe, then it's less safe to move through than it is to stay still in. Unless the ceiling falls down on them from all of the strain on the building, which- he doesn't have much of a plan for that. Best to just hope nothing like that happens. He strides over to the stairs to check them. Nothing coming down there. No creaking or moaning of the building. Nothing.

He returns to Alucard and Sypha calmly, crouching by the both of them. ]

Anything happens, I'll deal with it. In the meantime, tell me what I need to do to help.

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Page 89 of 141

20s AU Post

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