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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Explain? I would have thought that...the matter I charged into was the last of three.

[Damien. The Necromancer. Carmilla. That's three.

Alucard leans into every kiss, the thought of cooking now forgotten and abandoned. He's hardly been touch starved since waking, but he is clingy now, far clingier than ever before. It's desperate, it's trying to claw back something normal, it's not how he should be reacting but here he is, falling into the oldest and surest of comforts: Sypha.]

You were unconscious for our first...meeting...with your father.

[She won't call it a confrontation. No admitting to hostilities between them and Dracula. One of the rules is to abide by his laws, and Dracula has killed people for less insult than disrespect.]

The other day was the second. At the end of this will be one more, the third. That might be another three, itself.

[Alucard's never going to be over how stupidly proud of you took a shot at Dracula and walked away he is. That's his own rules.]

So what you're really suggesting is multiples of 3, with nine being the point of perfection?

I am suggesting...that sometimes a life is more than just one story. Sometimes it is hundreds of them, thousands, sewn together like a patchwork quilt. We may both be right. One story ended, while another is still ongoing.

[She lifts her head up a little, looking at him solemnly before leaning in to kiss him properly now.]

You just want this to be over, is that it? For the trials to be done, and this to be the after.

You're...far more correct than I am. Could ever hope to be.

[After all stories and storytelling is Sypha's birthright, just as much as this castle was Alucard's when his father abandoned it. As so much was, and now isn't, and it's a mess unto itself.

He's always come undone when Sypha's kissing him in moments like these. All vulnerabilities are rendered bare, practically on an autopsy table to be examined and understood.]

Yes. Selfishly and stupidly.

[This is about endurance, and he cannot trust himself to manage.]

It's nothing of the sort. Not either one.

[Well. Maybe it's selfish, yes, but that doesn't have to be a bad thing. With all the sacrifices Adrian has made for his inheritance, for the city, for the future, he's more than earned the right to be selfish.]

Shall I tell you a story, my love, to lift your spirits? You sound as though you would like to hear one.

[It was absolutely selfish, denying them both a chance to step away from his father unscathed. Fear drove every refusal, every word in that moment, and so they are here. Trying to define what plotting is, with the assumption it will be used broadly and on purpose.]

Your voice is the important part but...yes. Please.

Do you know the one about the nightingale?

[She lifts a hand, bringing it to rest against his cheek as she coaxes him to keep his eyes on her.]

I should warn you, there is a prince in it. If you would rather avoid such things right now.

I think so. Andersen, correct?

[He's happy to be lead. All he's wanted for ages is for someone else to be in charge, but...but now Alucard knows he should have been more specific. Exact. Fucking. Words.]

Mm, not that one. Similar roles, but a variant story.

[Her hand shifts, stroking through his hair, finding a steady rhythm to combing through it with her fingers spread.]

Once upon a time there lived a king, the most powerful man in all the world. He lived in a castle in the forest, as kings do, and everything he ever wanted, he got, because that is simply how it is, for kings.

[She hums softly, and the longer she goes on the sweeter her voice turns, blossoming into a proper lilt born of a lifetime of oral storytelling.]

And the king had a son, as kings do, a little prince that he loved more than anything in the world. And this little prince was young and merry, and loved to leave the castle and go out to play in the woods all day and all night, and once when he went out he went so very far into the woods, and it was there that he heard a nightingale singing.

Thank goodness. I...can't say I enjoy his interpretation.

[He doesn't know he has ached so badly for those steady hands until they are there. Then Alucard wonders why they have simply not always been there, and resolves to ensure that the rest of today has them huddled up together.]

A very fascinating forest.

[There's that gentle look of contentment on the vampire's face, all attention on Sypha and calm eyes. It's always there when she tells stories.]

Shhh.

[She's not actually shushing him or seeking to halt his commentary; it's more of a soothing, pacifying noise, offered in response to the contentment she can see in Alucard's expression. Acknowledgement. Approval.]

Day after day, the prince went far into the forest to hear the nightingale singing, but one day he took ill, and grew very sick. He was so sick that he could not even get out of bed, and his illness lasted for days and days.

[She runs the pad of her thumb over Alucard's lower lip.]

As the days went on, the little prince grew sadder and sadder, confined as he was to his bed. And one day, the king asked him if there were anything, anything in the world, that could make him happy. And the prince said, "I wish I could go into the forest again, and hear the nightingale singing."

[Being quiet without his head filling with every horrible thought is good. A novelty to indulge in, and Alucard is certain that that too must show on his face. He's all soft edges like this, wrapped up with his arms around her and being drawn so close.

It's an on the nose story, but that means the ending will have a promise of better times than these.

He refrains from a comment about depression naps when illness is mentioned (and what a shame they all can't do that for a month), but there's a near melting sensation when Sypha's thumb brushes against his lip. Alucard doesn't chase after it. It'll distract from the story.]

Mmm. [And more to himself than to Sypha, he murmurs happiness because that's what this is all about.] And kings don't go on quests like that in most tales.

They don't, no. But this king, he wanted very much to see his son smile again, and to please him and make him happy.

[She smiles, a little ruefully.]

So he sent his men into the forest, and they went deep, deep into the woods, and they found the nightingale and put it in a cage, and brought it back to have it sing for the king's son.

[HAHAHA WHAT'S A DAD THAT CARES ABOUT THAT KIND OF THING.]

That goes the opposite of how it is planned to be, then?

Quite the opposite. The bird, of course, does not sing; it only stands silent in its cage. And the king, of course, is very upset, because he brought the bird all that way to please his son, and now it turns out that the bird will not even sing.

[She bends forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead.]

Sometimes good intentions have poor outcomes, that way.

Mmm. Does the king learn a single thing from this?

[Alucard knows his father won't, unless there's a miracle. He nuzzles against Sypha's stomach, as it's the closest thing to him, and lets out a soft murmur to show he's still listening. That the kiss was wonderful and needed. That maybe after this and after lunch, they can simply be like this again.]

Of course. His son persuades him to set the nightingale free of its cage, and after he does, it comes back on its own and sits in the window to sing for the little prince, and does the same every day until he can go to play in the woods again.

[She presses one last kiss to the top of his head, squirming pleasantly at the nuzzling before draping her arms around him.]

The bird did not resent the prince for the time it spent in a cage. Not even a little bit.

Mmmmm.

[Alucard's own arms tighten around Sypha when her arms come to rest around him. Tonight may be an experiment into how close all three of them can be. If they can stand the heat of blankets because to be bundled up together sounds like the best thing in the world.]

That...is good to know. The last part. [It does not help his own guilt, but...]

Was there anything done for that nightingale to try and make those days stuck in a cage pass easier?

Well, it did stay in the prince's room, on the chance that it might come around and start to sing. I'm sure he talked to it and did his best to keep it company.

[She murmurs approval as he pulls her close, shifting only to get more comfortable before settling contentedly against him.]

After all, they were both in cages of a sort, together. Don't you think?

Mmm. One closer to one's own making, but I take the point all the same.

[It's a so very on the nose story.

They're as comfortable as this ritual ever allows for, the vampire staring up at Sypha knowing that she can read all his emotions that aren't showing. The fear, the anxiety, the ever-present possessiveness that has now been amplified, and the longing for this to just all be done. It's built on the foundation of love for them both, something that perhaps should have cracked for their safety but didn't.]

May I please make a request?

If you are careful with it.

[She lowers herself down without breaking his gaze, bringing their foreheads to lightly rest together with affection before allowing her eyes to flutter closed.]

I won't harbor requests that could be taken as plotting, of course.

[It's almost infuriating, to have to be so careful. But the castle might well be listening even if Dracula isn't, and this is one area where she can't afford to misstep.]

Is asking you to tell me one of your favorite stories every day plotting?

[The question is earnest, but that's the request. That's all. Just stories. Just her voice. Listening and being wrapped up in her arms while she tells them.]

The contents aren't important. I just want them to be the ones you like best.

Mmm. No, I think that would just be a promise.

[It's a sweet request, though, and it makes her smile.]

Will I only tell them here in the kitchen?

Wherever you decide is best for the day. So long as we can be like this.

[Together. Entwined. Distracted because he has to listen properly, and Sypha's own skills will take up so much more time.]

And whoever wants to join us can.

[Trevor. Or even the demon car, in so far as the demon car might ever want to hear stories.]

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