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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[The worst part about the crouching in Sypha's opinion is the way there isn't enough room for all of them to see at once, and still stay hidden. It also doesn't help that she's the shortest as well as their best ranged fighter, which means she naturally gets relegated to the back so that Trevor and Alucard have room to maneuver in the front without having to worry about hitting her when they deploy, which thanks to the shortness means that she also can't see anything. Well, at least not without climbing halfway onto Trevor to do it, which he only accepts with a modicum of grumbling and the caveat that she's going to have to move the instant something seems to start happening.

The tumblers rattle in the door's lock, and something is now decidedly happening.

Though her vantage point is absolutely terrible, there's shuffling that can be heard. The sweep of a long coat, the squeak of shoes on the pristine bleached floor. There's a girl in the morgue tonight — a tragic young woman who wanted to be with the man she loved and wound up heartbroken by awful news, and now she's here because she'd chased her man straight into death.

It's not a story that sits well with Sypha, for a lot of reasons. Some more glaring than others.

But there are footsteps, now. Pacing. Examining. He talks to himself while he works, this forgemaster, and right now he's talking out his aims — you'll do nicely, he murmurs to himself, and silly girl, among others.

She's holding her breath, and barely even realizes it. In the shadows, she glances to Alucard, who she knows will see her even despite the darkness.]

[There is an order of operations to this. The door must be sealed first, that's a Sypha job. Ice is good for that, easy to do at a range. Trevor needs clearance, so Alucard must knock the forgemaster away from the corpse so that there is no time for his work to begin. Then the man must be dealt with as the situation calls for. An alive man is fine, but if he perishes, then so be it. Intelligence is important, but safety is paramount right now.

Alucard's hand grips his sword tightly, even if he doesn't really need to. The telepathic link takes care of such work. He's tense, worried about Trevor's wrist, worried about what kind of bonus tricks a man like this could have up his sleeve. Intelligence was hard to gather - he spent much of his time hocking fake potions in the tourist districts that didn't work. A necromancer making a living.

He can see Sypha move. Her breath is too shallow, he doesn't like that. But more than that, now is the time to start moving. He nods at her, then to the door.

No words, but they don't need them in situations like this.

Now.]

[They move like a well-oiled machine, the three of them, and in the end the only pitfall to it is that there's three of them, and one of the necromancer.

Enclosed spaces really aren't good for multi-man melees. It means having to be all the more precise in everything they do, with no room for error as they fan out and deploy, and they are very, very good — but there's still three of them, and one of him.

They emerge; she sweeps to the left, seeking out an angle that will let her blanket the door in a sheet of ice. Trevor scrambles to the right with Vampire Inconveniencer in hand, focused on gaining ground position that will assist them in the middle game of this skirmish. And that leaves Alucard to go up the middle and over the top, wide open to lock onto the necromancer, who has come to the morgue in a top hat and monocle —

And who doesn't look surprised in the least to see them.]

[Alucard knows this plan. They don't like fighting in basements (primarily because you're fighting in a basement was Trevor's strategic explanation, which translated into issues of range), and there's too much equipment here. Alucard's already vaulted himself over a metal tray meant to hold tools for autopsies, and he's really trying not to think about that.

Easier to focus on how he needs to attack at an angle, so that when the necromancer falls back, it's 45 degrees left where there's a wide space that Trevor can take full advantage of.

Said necromancer moves before Alucard can reach him, before Alucard's sword can find purchase in necromancer's body. Instead there's a warm laugh, the kind of thing that would sound friendly if it wasn't so terrifying.]

Well met, gentlemen! And you've brought a friend with you! I wasn't aware that there were Speakers within the city. I heard that the last caravan here was heading west.

[Then there's something else. A gesture from the necromancer's hand, and shadows rising up and behind Alucard. They don't grab his limbs, they grab his torso, and when they meet his skin, there's a terrible crushing weight in them that makes him gasp for breath.]

[There's something about the way the necromancer offers up that fact so easily, so nonchalantly, that makes Sypha's blood run cold. Something about the fact that her caravan, her people had attracted this man's notice, had been remarkable enough that he'd remembered where they were going after they'd left Alucard's city — her loved ones, and he knows where they are, when his strategy for all these past nights has been to kill and claim the loved ones of others with his abilities.

It makes her angry, deep down. It's a cold sort of anger, which is probably a mistake; it's better than a hot anger that would bring fire to her fingertips, but ice isn't much better in an enclosed area that doesn't afford a lot of forgiveness for solid structures that interfere with maneuverability.

But then those shadows grab Alucard, and now he's threatening one of her loved ones in a much more immediate capacity.]

You leave him alone!

[Briskly, she shapes light into a ball in her hands, hurling it at the shadows in the hopes of dispelling them beneath its rays. And in the aftermath of the flash, it almost seems to; certainly the shadows are gone, washed away under the harsh, unforgiving clarity of her light.

...Except that Alucard still isn't moving.]

Oh, my dear Speaker. How quaint; a little illumination to combat the darkness. But just because you can't see them doesn't mean they're not there!

[Oh, he and Trevor both go stiff when the necromancer, the forgemaster, whatever the fuck he wants to be understood as starts talking about Speakers. The tone of it is the kind of interest that is dangerous, possessive in a terrifying way, stinking too much of hunt for it to mean anything good.

Trevor's response is to focus not on Alucard but on the necromancer, the whip smashing into the necromancer's stomach. It seems to do something at least, his top hat falls to the ground, the monocle is out of place. Better that than engaging in the man's pointless banter, the kind of thing that serves as a distraction.

Alucard sends his sword after Trevor's whip, the goal being the man's stomach. A good, deep gut wound, even if he's still rooted to the spot. Rooted and feeling the horrible weight around his torso extend upward, up to where his lungs are, and then there is such a weight.

Shit.

Shit.

There's a sudden gasp for air Alucard's never made before, and it is a testament to his focus that the sword remains on it's path rather than shattering to the ground.]

Oh —

[Trevor's whip knocks the wind soundly out of him along with dislodging his hat, forcing the necromancer back a step, and as Alucard's sword sails at him he —

Oddly, shows no sign of trying to move away, or dodge out of the line of fire. He simply grins behind his dark, mirrored glasses, raising his hands and seeming almost to accept the wound even as another set of shadows begin to wrap around the blade, as if sheathing it within their snare.]

— now that's not very nice!

[He finishes, eerily, as though offended at being interrupted.]

No!

[Hands twisting into familiar configurations, Sypha rushes to her left, swinging wide to try to get around behind the necromancer even as a ball of fire leaps from her fingertips, blasting flame at his face in the hopes of causing his own focus to shatter.]

[It's not easy to fight the shadow snares, be it with his own strength or with the strength of his blade. There is a terrible attempt to slice through the shadows, but then Alucard simply wills the sword to drag them along instead. For a moment, that seems to do the trick, the sword pulls ahead, strikes at the stomach of the necromancer.

It pierces. He thinks it does, there's a lot of things Alucard is thinking right now. Most of them are about how to try and get the horrible thing crushing his lungs away from him. His breathing is shallower now, his face must be turning blue.

Trevor's seen what the sword is trying to do. His best thought is to use the whip to drive the necromancer forward, towards it, helping him injure himself. The range is beginning to be an issue though, as there is little room left for the whip to move.

Then there is Sypha. Sypha moving forward, using her fire, and that should at least cause him some harm.]

[It's somewhere around her fourth continuous second of fireballing that it starts to occur to Sypha that something here is very wrong. Trevor's whip is dragging the necromancer hard onto Alucard's waiting blade; her own flames ought to be threatening his concentration at the very least, and scarring his face at the very worst. Yet the room is — quiet, save for Trevor's huffed exertion and Alucard's choking and her own cries.

The necromancer isn't showing signs of pain.

But in realizing that, she's gotten too close; it's hard to gauge safe distances in a room this small and this chaotic, and she's drifted too near to his proximity in her attempts to get around him. He pivots, making Alucard's sword wrench and twist in his gut, and as he does his cane comes up and catches her in the head, following through with a blow that knocks her back and into the wall, near the frozen-over door now melting rapidly from the increased heat in the room.]

Three on one's not much fair odds, fella-me-lads!

[Muttering a curse and a bellow of Sypha's name, Trevor flings his wrist, shaking his whip free and changes his target, shifting it from the necromancer's body to the shadows surrounding Alucard themselves. Will it cause the vampire some pain in addition to the beast holding him? More likely than not. But the shadows should dispel under the punishment of a blessed whip, and Alucard will recover, which is what they need right now.]

[Everything is happening too fast. Alucard's yet to clue into what's wrong with this necromancer, mostly because the lack of air in his lungs is playing total havoc with his ability to observe important details. (Something that, upon review, when the two are home and in a mode of straight up panic, will be recognized as strategy.) For the time being, there is only the satisfaction that his sword has made some kind of contact, not...not the lack of reaction.

Sypha's close though, and in any other situation Alucard would have it in him to try and direct her away. But that isn't possible, Trevor's whip is doing the very best it can do, and then Sypha gets hit.

Blessed whips at least free Alucard from the invisible things holding onto him, and when he stumbles forward it is with a terrible gasp to fix the fact that there is no air in him. One deep breath. Two. Then with a terrible fury he lunges forward towards Sypha.

He spoke of Speakers too meanancingly.

This was a trap, wasn't it?

It is a horrifying thought and it drives him forward, forward, forward to wher she is, bellowing her name and for her to but retreat. This was one of his fears over a year ago, wasn't it? That someone would try and come for her. There's precious relief in knowing that it is for her and her heritage, not in a way to play politics with himself.]

[The cane, they'll discover later, is weighted; that's why it sends her reeling as hard as it does when it hits her, knocking her into the wall and crumpling to the ground as her vision swims and her head spins. Whoever this monster is, he's intelligent to know to aim for her head; someone less acquainted with Speakers — and particularly Speaker magicians — might think focusing on her hands is the best way to neutralize her, since that's where her magic stems from. But this one seems to know that if she can't form a thought, she can't form intent.

Groaning, dizzy, she lands in a heap on the ground and tries to struggle up onto her elbows, ears ringing. She hears someone yelling — Alucard? Alucard, Trevor, where are they —

But then the world goes black as impenetrable shadow wraps around her eyes and her mouth, obscuring the world from perception.]

Ah, ah, chides the necromancer. Doubt this one's skull's as strong as your ribs, m'lord. Let's have a cease fire, shall we? Or I'll crack its head like an egg.

[There is a snarl from Alucard that is most certainly not human. It echoes in the morgue, makes it tremor and for a beat Trevor's finely honed instincts look as if they might turn on the vampire instead. He's not on top of the necromancer though, he is instead covering the full of Sypha with himself, or at least trying desperately to do so.

It leaves Trevor to go to the door, cover it because their lives more or less depend on it right now. This man can't leave, and he is most certainly not permitted to leave with her. The safety of the other two are the only two additional unspoken rules Alucard has ever dared to add to the city's unspoken legal code.

There is no time for sentimentality in this moment. Alucard can only pray that his arms around Sypha, a familiar and cooler weight, are felt through the horrible shadows.

When he looks up at the necromancer, there's barely restrained rage. He isn't attacking though, that says everything. Protecting her is more important than anger.]

Bit surprised that worked, actually.

[It's quickly becoming apparent that whatever the thing in their midst is, it's probably not human. There's no doubt that it's wounded; the clothes lie in tatters around the place where Alucard's sword had pierced its gut, and one side of its face is charred and warped nearly beyond repair thanks to Sypha's flames. Yet there's no change in its stance; there's no indication that it's even felt the blows dealt upon it.

The one notable thing it does display is the fact that when it does move, the motions are jerky and stilted, a bit like a clockwork puppet gone a little wrong.]

I'll be very simple, gents. You can give me the Speaker, or I can kill the Speaker. Knowing what you do of my...talents, I'm sure you can see it matters much more to you than it does to me, which of those options we pursue.

[Necromancer humor.]

Now, I suppose you're thinking to yourselves, why not just kill me, quick as a wink? It's a good thought. But you've tried that already, and I'm still here. So I don't think you'll manage to do it before I get my own shot off, as it were.

[He shrugs a little, one hand making a slight motion of his fingers; as if for emphasis, the band of shadow around Sypha's mouth starts to tighten, pushing against her lips until she's forced to part them, unable to prevent it from locking around her jaw, instead.

It's hard to gauge, just from looking at it, how tight an amorphous mass of darkness is actually gripping. The way that Sypha quickly starts to thrash and make strangled noises while trying to bite down on the shadow gag in her mouth, on the other hand, is a fairly reliable indicator.]

So. What'll it be, lads?

[There is no reason left in the vampire. If there was, he'd be able to determine that they're dealing with a shadow, a duplicate, some kind of bilocating spell, the kind of thing that enables one to act through a surrogate. Such as it is, his hands have become claws and he is trying to dig and scratch through the terrible shadows binding Sypha and break them in half.

He's failing. They're not real, every time he thinks he's gotten through the bonds he nearly scratches Sypha instead and he can't do that. That's a prelude to something else entirely, a thing forbidden by his own heart because he cannot imagine something crueler than turning either of them.

That's a thought that drives him to keep trying though. A life time, they get a life time, and this necromancer is threatening all of it.

He wants to hiss and thrash and make a point that this necromancer is doing the worst thing possible, coming for the associate of the lord of this city. To use title to intimidate, but it won't fucking work because the necromancer is mad and in this moment, Alucard is no better.

Out of the corner of his eye, Alucard's pretty sure Trevor's starting some kind of magic. Or trying to, finding ways to track this, track it now because even if Sypha is torn from them they can find her. Then Sypha starts thrashing, and Alucard's trying to get the shadow gag out of her mouth and--]

[There's blood at the corners of her mouth, now, where the gag is wrapped so tight that it's cut the edges of her lips; she's fighting and thrashing and her cries are turning to outright screams, and in that moment, a whole lot of things happen at once.

The necromancer opens his hand, closes it, and when he opens it again it's to a handful of what seem to be silver shards — mirror shards, at closer look. A flick of his wrist hurls them across the room, where they scatter on the floor and linger a moment before beginning to levitate, forming themselves up into —

In the same moment, two new black tentacles rise up and wrap around Sypha's struggling form, yanking her unceremoniously out of the grip of Alucard's claws (enough so that he may just feel them dig in, might just take the very top layer of her skin with them when they pull free) and tossing her toward the shards —

Darkness consumes the room like a flashbang in reverse; as glass clinks and whispers, there is a sound like a sudden breath of rushing air, and for an instant, a shape glows in the darkness — a half-skull with purple embers for eyes, lighting up and burning out in the span of a fraction of a second —

And when the dust clears, there are mirror shards scattered on the ground, and Sypha is gone, and in the necromancer's other hand sits a small weighted pouch not unlike a coin purse, which he tosses to Alucard almost nonchalantly.]

Just to settle up, m'lord. Pleasure doing business. That's about the going rate of a Speaker, isn't it? With a little extra for your trouble.

[It's a handful of coins, in the sack. Pocket change. Either a calling card, a last word, or just a touch of insult to injury.]

[He's drawing blood. He's drawing her blood and Alucard lets out another deep and inhuman sound as he does so. This is the only time he'll ever allow it, ever entertain it, because she's slipping out of his grasp, he's loosing against goddamn shadows, and and and and

There is nothing. Pitch black nothing. Alucard's landed in his stomach, sprawled against the darkness, and he scratches furiously at the ground. Trevor's saying something, he can't make any sense of what. Maybe it's in reaction to the purple haze lighting up the room, he doesn't know. His mind's gone dark as well, he's lost Sypha to magic he doesn't know and never has he felt closer to his father than in this moment.

(It is a thought that should scare him. It only fills him with more anger.)

When light returns to the terrible room, Alucard forces himself upright. Trevor tells him not to retract those claws, there's blood, it can be used for tracking, and Alucard listens. Being a monster feels so terribly right for this moment. This thing they're against, it'll be the only way to fight back.

A monster, directed by a Belmont, and nothing else.

He doesn't pay attention to those last words. This necromancer is about to be dust. There is is only wild eyed fear at Trevor.]

How quickly until....?

[Until they can devise a way to track this man. To find her. To do anything because they have time against them, but how long is a question neither of them can know.]

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20s AU Post

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