Alucard \\ Adrian F. Ţepeş (
cryptsleeper) wrote2018-11-11 04:32 pm
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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He could attack in sunlight. His grandmothers could attack in sunlight. Any human could attack in sunlight. The attacker aims another spray of the atomiser at Alucard’s face as he backs out of reach, apparently trying to blind him before Trevor shoves him and he topples to the ground. And then finds himself uncertain what to do. He can’t exactly drag the man off in broad daylight, especially when his attack would have looked to an observer like a mishap with medicine rather than the attack that it was.
He makes a decision in the moment. Alucard. Alucard takes priority. He lets the attacker run, moving to Alucard’s non-fish side and trying to guide him away, mumbling something about getting him clean air both to act as an excuse for Alucard’s sudden illness and to explain the plan to him. Get somewhere away from the silver spray.. Somewhere where there aren’t people to ask questions about silver allergies. There’s an alleyway not far away. ]
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...and he's still choking on his own breath, being guided away as best as Trevor can to make it all look so, so normal. They're both thinking the same word, that much is clear. Assassin.
Alucard's free hand reaches for Trevor's forearm and clamps on, making it clear that the vampire understands what is happening even if he doesn't have the words right now. If they're smart, they'll go for the car. Get out entirely and then once the car is far enough en route to the castle, be able to digest what has happened.
He's inarticulate. The particles are well lodged in his airway now, and everything is beginning to burn.]
Belmont.
[He manages one word, and it's low and strained.]
Something to flush this all out. Surely your family must...
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Silver dust. Yeah, I have shit for this. It's back at home. [ He didn't think to put vampire medicine into the car. Because he'd assumed the only danger was from other vampires, who wouldn't be able to use this shit. ] Think you can keep breathing that long?
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[Alucard's face is pale, a few places around his mouth red and burning where the silver dust settled on his skin rather than go into his throat. One of his hands is pressed to the wall of the alley, supporting himself. He can barely react to Trevor's form of medical care.
Breathing is agony. Every time air passes over the particles, they burn more.]
Car.
[They need to get to the car.]
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[ He's about to pull Alucard's arm over his shoulder when a figure enters the alleyway. The same man as before, and-
-shit. He needed to find somewhere out of sight to figure out what was going on, but secluded places that are out of sight are also very, very good places for assassinations. That was the point of the silver dust, wasn't it? Not to outright kill Alucard, but to force him into somewhere out of sight because choking on silver in public would reveal secrets that his father put a century's work into hiding. Somewhere alone, where he could be easily dispatched once weakened.
That answers some questions in itself. The assailant was expecting Alucard to be alone, but wasn't able to change his plans when it became clear that he wasn't. He's following orders, not thinking, and not ones that can be easily changed on the fly. Compulsion. Almost certainly. And that's good for them, because it means the man can't register Trevor's presence. There's no reaction as he approaches and pins the man to the wall, tugging a few strands of hair from his head.
They can get answers later. ]
Car, now. I'll let him go once you have a head start.
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His free hand flies to the pocket of his trousers where the car keys are kept, and he has to move. Running is...no. He can't run, not like this. That demands sharper intakes of breath, renders his throat more painful, makes the situation more obvious to those on the street. His eyes though, they're still on Trevor. Trevor and the assailant, who seems too single minded to do anything about the man pinning him down.
Fuck.]
Understood.
[He croaks the word out, then exits the alley. There's a sharp left that he takes, and it is through sheer intent that Alucard wills himself back to where the car is parked, closer to the open air market than the fish monger or even the yarn shop. There's groceries in the car already, and Alucard knows he will be expected to remain in the back with them. He can't drive safely at the moment, after all.]
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Once he thinks he's given Alucard enough time to make distance, he lets go of the attacker, shoving him back to make some distance himself and giving chase. He catches up with Alucard as he's getting into the car, snatching the keys out of his hands and pulling the seatbelt over him. Because Seatbelts Are Important. Even now. ]
I'm driving. That okay?
[ It's kind of a stupid question, and he doesn't wait for an answer before tumbling into the driver's seat, attending to his own seatbelt as he turns the key and sets off. ]
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[As if the vampire is in any shape to protest. When the car's moving, he is careful as to how he holds his head, struggling to find an angle that lets him breathe with as little pain as possible. It...
it fails. Every angle, every position, there's a whimper of agony, each one worse but somehow softer than the last. His hands are clinging to the car door, injuring it instead of the soft cushioning below.]
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He's driving safely. Properly. Following every rule. And that's usually easier to do, even in dire situations. It's harder than it ought to be, once those whimpers begin, to resist the temptation to speed back to the castle and damn the consequences or to stop the car entirely to sit with Alucard. The former would be effective but risky. The latter would be comforting, maybe, but stupid.
He only realises after driving for a couple of minutes that he's talking. Not about anything in particular, just the kinds of stupid topics that slip from his tongue easily. The Saga Of The Fishmonger's Wife's Brother. The church's latest food drive, and how Father Robert had cried about it and how apparently that's a thing that happens every year. Nothing important, just talking. Just something stupid and meaningless for Alucard to focus on.
He doesn't have time to examine his own behaviour right now. ]
There's one of those fucking Godbrands in my knitting bag, if you can reach it. Probably better to hold on to that than the car.
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At least Trevor's voice cuts through the pain, however temporary it is. There's...it isn't comforting. It's just babble. It's just a distraction, but it's enough to at least prevent the worst part of absolute panic from seizing the vampire in full.
He can't make noises of acknowledging that Trevor's speaking. Not until the matter of Potatobrands is mentioned, and at least Alucard can go about retrieving those. (He has to undo his seatbelt.)
The Godbrand is still terrible and squishy, and he's being crushed under Alucard's hand in minutes.]
Thank you. That's...help.
[That's help. What a stunning command of language he has.]
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[ He makes the demand, but he doesn't press it. And that alone is unusual for him. It's never been just that he doesn't like breaking traffic laws so much as that he's genuinely unable to and that he's being tempted to, that he maybe even could if he tried - that's new and would be a little scary if he didn't have other, more pressing things to be concerned about. They'll be back at the castle soon, they'll be back at the castle and fuck if he's ever had to treat silver inhalation before but he can probably figure it out. His babbling shifts from church business to memorised passages of The Hunter's Garden without him quite realising it.
He's somewhere around Juniper when he parks the car, opening Alucard's door. Sypha's car is still absent, which makes this more complicated. ]
I'm going to carry you. That okay?
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[He's not going to fight. He can't fight, not really. Alucard can only just keep abusing the Potatobrand in his hands, and that will have to be it. There's more...more gardening now, but that's just fine too.
When the door is open, Alucard is already turning and trying to get on his feet and...
No. Walking is only going to make this so much worse.]
Mmmm.
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This is going to be awful, just so you know. There's two treatments I know of, one that I actually have the things for, and they're both fucking horrible.
[ He's heading for his room as he speaks. He's not brought the collection of Belmont things he's been amassing down to the office yet. Not when there's been no need for it, and when it all being made visible to visitors would be somewhat threatening. The room is a mess, if a highly organised one. Papers, jars, a selection of potted plants strategically placed around the window. Half-finished knitting projects next to knives and guns and pots of different writing implements and compasses that don't point north. And a perfectly made bed, which he proceeds to set Alucard down on. ]
Don't know how much you've heard about werewolf medicine, but it's the fucking worst. 'What doesn't kill you makes you stronger' taken to the fucking extreme.
[ Which is to say- ]
I'm going to poison you.
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I expected horrible.
[He's quiet save for the ragged breaths and soft whines that alternate as they move towards Trevor's room. There's no surprise that all the Belmont things are quarrentined here, making the rest of the house safe for himself.
Mess isn't a surprise. It's probably organized. Alucard can't focus enough to comment.]
I'm not fam....
[There's another noise that's a near laugh.]
Of course. Of course.
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[ He takes jars, inspecting each one for a moment before putting some back and lining others out on what space remains on the desk. Alucard will have seen all of the jars before at one point or another - Trevor's been certain to keep him informed about Belmont things being brought into his home - but one looks very much like any other. They're all dried plant matter, or things preserved in various oils. The ones he's selected are a jar of small dried flowers, another of what look to be cut roots, and a bottle of thick, clear, slightly green-tinged liquid.
Once he's found what he needs, he approaches Alucard again and holds out another knitted doll. Sadly Damien doesn't look nearly as distinctive as Godbrand, so it's hard to see the resemblance in potato form. ]
I'm going to the kitchen for a moment. I'll need to boil some water. Anything you need, before I do?
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If it fails, my mother's work. Tracheotomy.
[It won't help with the silver, but it will allow air to get into his throat so he can at least breathe.
As Alucard watches Trevor go through the jars, he tries to understand what is being taken out of each. He fails though, and that's for the pain of this rather than lack of trying. He can barely register that there's a new squishy thing in his hand.
Doesn't look like Godbrand though.]
No.
[Please hurry.]
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He can feel the response in his head, but it doesn't quite make it to his mouth. Which is unusual, because he's never really had much of a filter before.
...not wanting to make things worse while Alucard is suffering is apparently a greater part of his basic nature than being an asshole is. That's going to. Need some thought. ]
If it's all the same to you, I'll take you to an actual doctor for that shit.
[ And he squeezes Alucard's hand as he pushes the potamian into it before leaving. He returns after about ten minutes, kettle in one hand, a mug and a blood bag in the other. ]
You'll need the blood as soon as you can stomach it once this is done, to keep up your healing. And we're going to have to throw out the mug after. I tried to choose the shittiest one.
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Fine, fine.
[The words are rougher now. Croaked out, showing genuine strain in doing so. He hasn't even looked up.]
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Trevor tries to work fast. As fast as he can afford to while handling aconite flowers and sap. Things that might not be fatal to Alucard but that absolutely would be to him. Soon, he has a mug of plant stuff, and all that remains is to find a way to get that to the worst of the silver. If it was just the throat, drinking the mixture might work. But there’s probably silver in his lungs, and so- ]
I’m going to pour the hot water into this. [ He pushes the mug into Alucard’s hands as he speaks. ] You need to breathe in the steam. As much of it as you can.
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[He can do as he's told, that much is clear. Alucard leans over the mug, making sure it's under his nostrils. The curtain of his hair, thick as it is, is an advantage now. It keeps some of the steam from escaping.
The first whiff of the stuff as Alucard recoiling from smell. The second is after the steam hits his throat, and begins to interact with the silver. There's something now tearing at his throat, latching onto the silver particles and then...
He can't say what's happening. It's just a new kind of pain, one that has his hands shaking with the mug, threatening to spill everywhere.]
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But he does. Of course he does, placing his hands over Alucard’s to steady them. He’s just going to have to trust Alucard. ]</small] Just keep breathing. Until it stops getting worse. I’m here. I won’t letit fuck you up too badly.
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He's funny. Everything is agony, Alucard is literally breathing in poison, and the Belmont is telling him to pay attention to when it stops getting worse. His hands still shake, even after Trevor's are resting over his, and they continue for a while more.
The aconite has torn the silver from the vampire's throat, but the vapor now needs to make it's way out. There is a sudden terrible and violent cough, and into the cup of steaming hot liquid there is pool of liquid silver that comes up and out the vampire's airway.
Then another.
And another still.]
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Eventually, he does need to breathe, and he really ought to have opened the window before he began (he also should have worn gloves. He's made a lot of fucking mistakes). He pulls away and does that, gasping in mouthfuls of clean air before returning to Alucard and, now the silver seems to have stopped, taking the mug from him. He takes an empty jar and pours the contents of the mug into it and seals it. ]
I've- kind of filled my room with poison. [ Oops. Did not think this through. ] I'm going to move you to the living room until it airs out. Nod if that's okay.
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Mm.
[It's as good as a nod, but the vampire is still shaking something awful. It's in his hands mostly, all from the pain of it rather than an actual fear of what's just come to pass. He doesn't think I was just nearly assassinated. There's no bandwidth left in him to even have that thought.]
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You're through the worst of it. It's going to be fucking awful for a couple days, but it'll be better than it is now.
[ ...He really is bad at being comforting. There's one more part of this. One more thing before he can sit down and process this, and he sets Alucard down on the sofa and holds out the blood bag. ]
Drink. I'll look away, unless you need me to hold it for you. You're going to need your healing pretty fucking desperately.
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