[ Agatha has changed one detail of the terms, for all of the begging. When this begins, Sypha is sent to safety. Nothing more. Decades of good work, of acting as sanctuary to the people, of bringing succor and joy to believers and nonbelievers alike, of songs and food drives and listening and helping will come to bear fruit on the Pentecost, the day upon which men are most holy. The only day on which the entire Mississippi could be blessed by a single church.
She had always seemed the most gentle, the most reasonable of the hunters of the eastern orthodox church. Now, now she is vengeful. Now she is a woman whose country was stolen from her by petty people who wanted power. Whose name was mangled into something uglier and more convenient by petty people who wanted power. Whose entire adult life was lost to the protection of her own from petty people who wanted power. Who has almost now lost her godson to petty people who wanted power. It doesn't make it better that the boy wasn't targeted specifically. It makes it worse. She has been caught in the crossfire of uncaring people too many times to bear it once more. Her fondness for Alucard earns him warning, earns him the guarantee of Sypha's safety, and not an inch more.
One way or another, this is over on the day of the holy spirit's descent.
The murmurs stop for a moment when Trevor's palm brushes over the handle of the whip, but he does nothing more and they start again once the culprits are at their backs. He maybe overestimated the weight that his stepping into his role properly would carry. Perhaps it is too late. Carmilla already leaked the news of the deaths of the Belmont family. It's well known that he's alone here, that his death won't summon some kind of terrible retribution. At least, not from House Belmont.
He lets go of the whip. So far he's been relying on being seen as a weapon at these events. But a mute weapon isn't fearsome enough. Not anymore.
He lets his knuckles brush against Alucard's, looking to the center of the dance floor. ]
Dance with me.
[ This is not a request that Trevor makes. Never. It's never happened before. ]
no subject
She had always seemed the most gentle, the most reasonable of the hunters of the eastern orthodox church. Now, now she is vengeful. Now she is a woman whose country was stolen from her by petty people who wanted power. Whose name was mangled into something uglier and more convenient by petty people who wanted power. Whose entire adult life was lost to the protection of her own from petty people who wanted power. Who has almost now lost her godson to petty people who wanted power. It doesn't make it better that the boy wasn't targeted specifically. It makes it worse. She has been caught in the crossfire of uncaring people too many times to bear it once more. Her fondness for Alucard earns him warning, earns him the guarantee of Sypha's safety, and not an inch more.
One way or another, this is over on the day of the holy spirit's descent.
The murmurs stop for a moment when Trevor's palm brushes over the handle of the whip, but he does nothing more and they start again once the culprits are at their backs. He maybe overestimated the weight that his stepping into his role properly would carry. Perhaps it is too late. Carmilla already leaked the news of the deaths of the Belmont family. It's well known that he's alone here, that his death won't summon some kind of terrible retribution. At least, not from House Belmont.
He lets go of the whip. So far he's been relying on being seen as a weapon at these events. But a mute weapon isn't fearsome enough. Not anymore.
He lets his knuckles brush against Alucard's, looking to the center of the dance floor. ]
Dance with me.
[ This is not a request that Trevor makes. Never. It's never happened before. ]