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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[Alucard understands the situation, even through the burning agony of it. The whole attack was a two pronged thing, the first meant to weaken and isolate himself, the second to ensure the deed was done out of the way.

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.]

[ Compulsion is shit, no matter which side of it you're on. There's nothing he can do to slow the man except to physically hold him still. With a normal attacker, he could slow them without doing permanent damage with a good stomp to the inside of the foot. but that doesn't work with someone who's being compelled. Pain won't slow them. Nothing short of broken bones will, and not even those sometimes, he'll be acting at the very limits of his body's capabilities. All he can really do is hold the man still until Alucard is at the car and to curse what had at the time seemed like a sound plan of 'it's a nice day, let's not worry about parking too close'.

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. ]

Fine.

[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.]

[ The man's nearly caught up with them when he sets off, and he can see him first give chase and then stand uselessly once it becomes clear that he cannot catch up with them on foot. Safe. They're safe, at least from the immediate threat of the assailant. There's just Alucard's condition to worry about.

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.

[Alucard's eyes aren't on the question of the poor fuck who's been forced into doing this. He's hardly in Alucard's thoughts. All Alucard's mind is capable of hooking onto is the pain right now. If he wasn't doing that, he'd be demanding that Trevor go over the damn speed limit and the vampire's condition would be enough to talk them out of being pulled over and given a speeding ticket.

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.]

You're welcome. Seatbelt.

[ 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?

It's already--!

[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.

[ He lifts Alucard out of the car carefully. And- shit. There's always a quality to someone's weight, when they're hurting. It's hard to describe, maybe a little like holding something with hollow bones like a bird's, but all too easy to feel. ]

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.

[Alucard doesn't hold onto Trevor. His grip is impossible to moderate right now, so he remains focused on the Potatobrand that has all but become shreds of yawn now. This is easier because he isn't exerting himself, but only just so.]

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.

It shouldn't be deadly. Or- it would be to a puny mortal, but once it's neutralised the silver your healing should save you the worst of it. You'll be out of it for a few days, and you're going to feel like shit, but you won't die. And you'll be able to breathe. And with any luck your throat'll be healed up a little before you start coughing all of this shit up.

[ 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?

[Shouldn't be deadly. Great. That's very reassuring, and for that the vampire can manage a soft noise that probably translates as I can feel your confidence in this. The promise of not being conscious for the worst of the healing isn't reassuring either, but it is doubtlessly for the better at the moment.]

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.]

[ Fuck off, do I look like someone who understands five syllable words?

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.

[By the time Trevor returns, the Potamian is well and destroyed, and the vampire is hunched over in his seat, his hands holding his head up. It doesn't really help, but it's something at least, and the vampire has managed to not spit up blood onto the floor. That feels like an accomplishment, and that shouldn't be.]

Fine, fine.

[The words are rougher now. Croaked out, showing genuine strain in doing so. He hasn't even looked up.]

[ Shit. It’s hard to tell if he’s getting worse or if the adrenaline is just wearing off. Either way is probably bad.

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.

Hm.

[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.]

[ ...he really shouldn’t put himself in a situation where there’s the slighest chance of getting scalded by that water.

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.

[Until it stops getting worse.

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.]

[ Trevor doesn't speak. That needs air, and he has to hold his breath for as long as possible because he did not think this through because this close he's very much in danger of breathing in the steam himself. But he wants to. He wants to be more comforting. He just can't. Even if he could speak, he's a shitty person and being comforting requires one to not be a shitty person. He presses his hands tighter over Alucard's, even as the scalding poison splashes out of the mug as new liquid falls into it, and avoids being splashed by it by sheer dumb luck.

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.

[They need a fan in here. Some way to generate wind. Or for Sypha to be home to freeze the steam, force it to stay cold, and find some place to dump it. But that isn't happening, there's only poison in the air, silver, and now the vampire spitting up additional blood because of course he is. Of course that's all going to be dislodged, and that too goes into the mug until Trevor takes it away.]

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.]

[ He pulls Alucard up to his chest, holding on to him as tightly as he can without outright crushing him. The blood bag comes with them. The kettle can't. He can retrieve it later. It'll need a thorough scrubbing. ]

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.

[Alucard can feel himself moving under the haze of pain, but he doesn't really register how he finds himself on the sofa. (It should probably be the bed, but...no. Can't be. Can't cough blood onto the sheets.)

He can reach out for the blood bag, but his hand pauses as it settles around it.]

--Open it, please?

[Opening is likely to spill everywhere if you're a vampire right now.]

[ Trevor's reasons for not taking Alucard to his own room have less to do with sheet integrity and more to do with the need for propriety. He can't just hang around in someone's bedroom. And so he'd need to leave Alucard alone, which seems like it would be a bad idea right now. ]

Oh, I thought-

[ He's been making a point of not watching his host feed. Alucard doesn't seem to want him to, and he's trying in at least some ways t be a decent houseguest. He'd just kind of assumed that one bit into the bags. He opens it carefully, handing it over again. And- shit, his hands are still shaking. ]

-do you need me to steady your hands? I'll close my eyes.

Hn.

[That's a no. And then he leans over the bag, taking it from Trevor's hands carefully. From the angle he is at, Alucard's face and hair covers the act itself, although a portion of the bag's contents are still visible. Not that they're there for long, the full pint is drained in about a minute, with not even a last drop clinging to the bag's interior.

His hands aren't shaking. There's a sigh, and as raw as it sounds, it is still far better than before.]

Fuck.

[The vampire swears rarely. It is a worthy situation for swearing though, and he's aware of it as he carefully lifts his head. There is some color to Alucard that usually is not there.]

You took hair?

[Alucard thinks he saw that happen at any rate.]

[ There's a shift, once Alucard swears, and it's immediately visible. Like the strings of a puppet have been cut. His entire body sinks forward and he flops to one side, taking a seat next to Alucard. ]

Yeah. Between that and the silver, I ought to be able to track him down. Then- fuck, I'll figure something out from there. I'll take him to Father Robert, maybe, ask him to figure out where he's been the last couple days. Who he's spoken to.

[ Just tracking down someone who wasn't acting of their own free will isn't too helpful, after all. And he knows from experience how fuzzy the compulsion makes the memories surrounding it. Prompting a person to remember who they spoke to last before they entered the state of compulsion is far, far beyond his own social capabilities, and that's even assuming the victim is willing to talk and

coming up with a plan is hard. Thinking is hard. Alucard almost died. Because he was stupid and complacent. And that matters, and it shouldn't. Not half as much as the implications of it. But it's not 'the city almost got thrown into chaos' that every cell in his body is screaming, like it should be. It's 'Alucard almost died'.

Quietly, he offers a hand. ]

[Alucard does catch the moment that tension leaves Trevor's body in full. He wishes he could do the same himself, but at the moment he can feel every part of himself starting to heal up, and while the most painful parts of it are indeed past, there's still fire going through most of his nerve endings.]

Compulsion makes it too easy to cover one's tracks. [It's easy to guess what Trevor's thinking is. Likewise, it's easy to guess what must be done to whoever is responsible.

It isn't a thought he dwells on. Alucard needs to focus on powering through the worst of this, especially before Sypha returns home. She's going to have a fit, rightfully so, and then where will any of them be? The toll of this regency has been great, assassination was bound to happen, but all the same. Once there's one attempt, it'll be known. There will be more.

Alucard looks at the hand offered, and there's a worried noise.]

I think there was too much aconite steam on my hands. Is there soap and water...

[How fucking stupid would it be to just poison Trevor after all of this?]

But after...yes.

[To handholding, he means.]

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