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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No, no tricks. Just...enjoying the attention.

[It's different, getting it when she's not actively soliciting it. It's different to stand out just because someone thinks she does, different to be different for a while and then go back to her people, where it's warm and familiar and everyone tries so hard to be the same.]

It's even more than just attention. You're spoiling me.

How is treating you as a guest spoiling you, exactly?

[Alucard's unfamiliar with the concept at the moment.]

You bought me fabric, and a lemonade, and ice cream, and made me dinner twice. Once just because I asked for it, even though you didn't know how to make it before. And that's just what you've done for me alone.

[She ticks each thing off on one of her fingers, and when she runs out of fingers on one hand she starts over again.]

You treat all of your guests with that sort of generosity?

I try to. If there are requests, I heed them. If there are things owed, I try to fulfill them. If there's anything else I can do, I will strive to do it.

[She's right, of course. But Alucard's not going to poke at it.]

I suppose I may have gone slightly overboard though.

Oh.

[Hmm. She turns her attention back to her pasta for a minute, sampling one of the meatballs and thoughtfully demolishing another portion of the noodles in relative silence before tentatively offering up:]

...Is there anything you would do for me that you wouldn't do for an ordinary guest?

[There's a very long pause. Consideration of the question. Then he realizes there's already an answer.]

I suppose the way we were holding hands the other day...

[She can't help but sigh, shaking her head with a soft laugh, and pokes at her plate again.]

Never mind. It's not that important a question.

[Because that's what people always say about unimportant questions. Sure.]

You did a perfect job. I don't think I've tasted anything better.

[He feels as if there was some part of the question he missed. Too late now, but Alucard's going to be content with praise for his cooking. It's rewarding. And nice to know.]

Thank you. I'm glad that it met and exceeded your expectations. There's plenty more, if you wish for it.

[Alucard's going to have leftovers for days. Which is fine, but he wants Sypha to eat her fill first.]

You were further north when you first saw this dish, weren't you? New York or Boston?

Almost directly north of here! We passed through Chicago on our way to the Mississippi River, and took steamboats south.

[The memory brings a smile back to her face, and she sighs a little dreamily, winding another mouthful of noodles around the tines of her fork as she remembers it.]

I liked the steamboats. They were full of songs.

Ah, I listed every option but the correct one.

[Alucard's interested by that smile though. So there's only one thing to do: prod her for far more elaboration while he shuts up, eats, and listens.]

What was the journey like, getting here?

[And that proves to be a question that she could answer with a narrative that goes on and on and on, and she does. It lasts through the rest of her plate of dinner; it lasts until the sunset is once again staining the room hues of orange and gold. She thinks of details to add as they put the plates away and store the rest of the pasta for later; she chatters as he leads her into the living room and they find their seats again, and as this time she takes the loveseat for herself instead of the chair and kicks off her shoes to curl her legs up beneath her on it, catlike.

But soon, things wind down, and a pleasant solemnity settles around them. She's toying with the tassled fringe on the edges of one of the throw pillows, and watching him, and more importantly, watching him watch her right back.

It's as though they both know that the evening ought to end any minute, and yet both of them are pointedly ignoring it in the hopes that if they refuse to acknowledge it, maybe the reality of it will just go away.]

You are in high spirits tonight.

[She observes, managing not to yawn in the middle.]

You're feeling better, then?

[Time is the enemy, isn't it?

Dinner goes by so fast. Alucard listens with too much intensity, a thing he'll recognize as jealousy when Sypha leaves. To travel so widely, that was what his mother wanted of both the men in this little family, wasn't it? What Sypha says is as close as he may get for a very long time, so he clings to every little detail.

There's dessert in the form of strawberries and freshly whipped cream (a perk of vampire speed, actually), which he brings into the living room. He takes one of the armchairs, and there's so much clinging to every reason for Sypha to not leave.

That yawn means she really does have to go, doesn't it?]

I believe the answer is yes to both.

[He's the kind of person who sits up straight in an armchair around guests. But there's a little bit more slouch to him.]

Within a week I think all will be well. Two at the most.

Mmmm.

[She has to reach a little to get at the strawberries and cream, and overestimates a bit as she dips one of the pieces of fruit into the whip; in trying to get it into her mouth, half of the cream ends up on the tip of her nose, and she absently sticks out her juice-reddened tongue to try to get at it before discovering the hard way that it's unfortunately too short to reach.]

But you said it was odd, didn't you, that it took even this long to heal? Most wounds you get, they heal in a matter of minutes, yes?

[Alucard's watching her. Because of course he is, and he wouldn't have missed the glorious move of getting far too much cream on her nose. Then failing to retrieve it. There's no way to hide a smile at that, and it means that her question isn't as sobering as it ought to be.]

I did, yes. It's the first time it's ever happened.

Hmph.

[That's directed at the whipped cream, not at Alucard. Curse you, whipped cream, being right where she can't reach it with her tongue.]

...I promised you I would not ask how it happened.

[She hesitates a minute; a ponderous silence.]

I...am not asking.

Just use your finger. I won't judge manners.

[Or it's going to be there all night, out of reach and driving your nose insane, Sypha.

Now it is sobering though. The silence is what does it more than anything else, and Alucard props his elbow up on the arm of the chair, then rests his cheek in his hand. He's quiet for a long moment, then closes his eyes.]

People do very, very stupid things out of grief.

[She wrinkles her nose as she swipes at it with her fingertips, managing to get the spot of cream off, which is the good news. The dangerous news is that now it's on her fingers, and seeing no sense in wasting it, the only option remaining is to lick it off of them.]

...Then...

[She frowns, deeply.]

You...did it to yourself...?

No.

[He's firm about that point, but that also means there's only one obvious suspect. Alucard opens his eyes just in time to see Sypha finally solve the whipped cream problem, and it does help. Does coax out a little more.

What it doesn't cancel out is the sadness in his words.]

My father is...not in his right mind, at the moment. Wherever he is.

[She stills, as all of a sudden a lot of individual pieces of information all start to fall together, and add up into a great deal of sense.]

...That is why you couldn't go to your own people for help. Why you're here in this townhouse instead of...elsewhere. Because he owns this city.

[...But wait.]

What do you mean, wherever he is?

[He nods, confirming everything she's said. The townhouse, technically, is less because his father owns the city and more because the castle is painful to be in, but that is a petty detail.]

Exactly what it sounds like. He's fled the city. No one knows where he's gone.

You're saying he did that to you and just...left?

[Her expression is darkening now, as her brow furrows with uncertainty and something else, something approaching disapproval.]

He is not even close at hand to know if you've recovered from it, or —

As I said. Stupid things are done due to grief.

[Alucard's face is tired. Weary, it shows mostly in his eyes and with the little bit of slump in his body language. He's been doing a stellar job of avoiding this particular thought, and it's been in no small part due to Sypha just...being around. And if not around, providing him a good challenge that demanded all of his brain power.]

...I can think of some choice words with which to describe your father, but I will refrain.

[That may, after all, be rudeness past the benchmark given earlier. Saying them might mean destroying the house in a different way than just physically.]

But if he is gone, then...who is ruling the city?

Thank you, I'd rather you not invite trouble.

[That's less rudeness, more like asking dad to show up and respond.

Her question is met with a very, very dark look. In all of this (and all the glory of ignoring what had happened for just two precious days), there had been no answer. Just as the proper response to Sypha's querry now is a terrible, terrible silence.]

[It's a lack of response that makes her feel as though a block of ice has dropped into the pit of her stomach, and she sits up a little with undisguised alarm in her expression, no longer drowsy and satiated.]

...Then it is no longer safe here, for my people to stay.

[Her stomach twists, and she's not entirely sure it's out of worry for her people.]

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