[The roots have entered his airway, that much Alucard knows. The door, the door is so close. The door is miles away, and he chokes as still struggles to reach it. Every part of him now save his eyes are covered in roots that smell of burnt flesh, and then there's a thought in him that should never be.
His mother, by fortune, had choked on the smoke of her own pyre before her flesh was well and truly burnt. As terrible a way to die as it was, it could have been worse.
He understands in that moment what this is about. So as his hands reach for the door, the roots enter his lungs, his eyes are covered, Alucard knows that this is a reminder of death here in these lands. That the rules are that of the fae, and they will never shrink in reminding them both of that fact.
no subject
His mother, by fortune, had choked on the smoke of her own pyre before her flesh was well and truly burnt. As terrible a way to die as it was, it could have been worse.
He understands in that moment what this is about. So as his hands reach for the door, the roots enter his lungs, his eyes are covered, Alucard knows that this is a reminder of death here in these lands. That the rules are that of the fae, and they will never shrink in reminding them both of that fact.
The rest is darkness.]