[ Once Alucard is looking through the burned hole, Trevor sets to work. He pours a little of the blood onto the paper, dipping the pen into it and dragging it across in patters, more shorthand coming off each line. The charred edges of the hole catch again. ]
Shit- fire. Should have warned you.
[ Trevor doesn't say anything more (he can apologise after), resuming his desperate scrawling until the burning hole becomes a lens to- something else. A lot of something elses at first, Carmilla's blood being spread through the city as it is. He's looking through the eyes of every one of Carmilla's fledglings at once. One by one, the extra visions fall away as Trevor adds more to the spell and it grows more and more specific.
And there is their necromancer.
And he looks terrified. His pince-nez are broken, broken glass from their lenses in one cheek, the bridge of his nose bleeding from where the metal of them has been driven into it with some force. There is a hand in his hair, long and slender, pulling his head back at an unnatural angle while his hands fumble with the spark wheel of a lighter and a piece of that incense. Another of those long, slender hands plucks the incense from his and tosses it away, then disappears and reappears with a bottle of the tonic.
There's no sound, but something happens out of sight and the man's mouth opens in a scream before the tonic is poured down his throat, bubbling and dribbling from his mouth as he struggles to breathe through the liquid. ]
no subject
Shit- fire. Should have warned you.
[ Trevor doesn't say anything more (he can apologise after), resuming his desperate scrawling until the burning hole becomes a lens to- something else. A lot of something elses at first, Carmilla's blood being spread through the city as it is. He's looking through the eyes of every one of Carmilla's fledglings at once. One by one, the extra visions fall away as Trevor adds more to the spell and it grows more and more specific.
And there is their necromancer.
And he looks terrified. His pince-nez are broken, broken glass from their lenses in one cheek, the bridge of his nose bleeding from where the metal of them has been driven into it with some force. There is a hand in his hair, long and slender, pulling his head back at an unnatural angle while his hands fumble with the spark wheel of a lighter and a piece of that incense. Another of those long, slender hands plucks the incense from his and tosses it away, then disappears and reappears with a bottle of the tonic.
There's no sound, but something happens out of sight and the man's mouth opens in a scream before the tonic is poured down his throat, bubbling and dribbling from his mouth as he struggles to breathe through the liquid. ]