[ He takes the dish, taking care not to let his skin get too close to Alucard's. The paste is similar to ones Enid used to mix for them (blackthorn ash and holy water, to be smeared in a thick layer over injuries from a vampire's claws and allowed to dry before being peeled away and buried in a churchyard). It's- all of this is familiar, in truth. Comforting in the stupidest way possible.
Less comforting is the task of working the paste into the cut. It's a highly unpleasant process, made moreso by the fact that he needs to use the most distant hand for it. He gasps and swears, but finally succeeds. ]
no subject
Less comforting is the task of working the paste into the cut. It's a highly unpleasant process, made moreso by the fact that he needs to use the most distant hand for it. He gasps and swears, but finally succeeds. ]
Fuck. Done, I think.