cryptsleeper | Catch All

[Alucard's careful as he uses one of his hands to tug the fabric away from Trevor's chest more. There isn't quite enough clearance for it to be tossed aside entirely yet, but the message is doubtlessly clear. He's never hidden the fact that one of his favorite places to rest his head is Trevor's chest.

Each soothing smooch gets a happy noise in response, and Alucard doesn't hesitate to try and tangle their feet together even more.]

Just me, or all three of us?

[ The shirt finally gives up, sliding over Trevor’s side to fall to the ground at his front, defeated. He slides his hand upward, pushing Alucard’s own shirt up a little. But there’s no hurry. If there was, it isn’t as if the shirt is real, no harm would come from ripping it off. They can take their time, savour this, working in little strokes and nudges. ]

All of us. In winter, maybe. Furs and hot wine and colours in the sky.

[ His lips move back to Alucard’s, kissing perhaps a little more possessively than is really necessary. ]

Shouldn’t get ahead of myself. Right now’s perfect.

...Please.

[It sounds perfect. Not that right now isn't perfect either, with Trevor's front finally freed from fabric. Alucard's left hand traces up his back, over Trevor's shoulder, then down to the front, resting over Trevor's heart. The movement in and of itself? That is joy. But the kiss, oh.

He'd be terrified at any other point. Now, the sense of mine nearly makes him swoon like a maiden, lips parting ever so slightly if Trevor wants to make that possessive statement further in.]

Mmmm. Do I need to be particularly careful with your wings in this place?

[The seven years have passed much different than Hector had expected. He'd been prepared to sequester himself in a remote corner of the world with his pets and shut out the rest of the world.

And then he met someone. A year, he'd been on the run, trying to find a safe place before he finally settled down. Then, six years on the outskirts of a small village on the border of Romania, years spent in a greater happiness than he'd thought possible.

And then Isaac found him.

His feet fall heavy as he rushes now toward the castle. A sword hangs on one side, a hammer at the other. His pledge to never forge again has been broken, and a small fairy hovers near his shoulder, helping point him toward his destination.

He's not thinking clearly as he finally reaches his destination. Only one thing matters.]

Isaac! I'm here! Come out and face me!

[He certainly doesn't notice Adrian's improvements to the landscaping in his rage.]

[Again?

It's the first thought that pops into Alucard's head, because if Hector's words are anything to go by, then he has for a second time threatened to bring in some ridiculous forged army down upon Alucard's home without considering the rest of the situation. Or that Alucard still lives there.

His keen eyes catch the hammer, the fairy less noticeable as Alucard's wolf form runs parallel to Hector's, gaining speed until the wolf pulls ahead. There's a hard left, and in Hector's path, just before the castle doors, is Alucard's wolf form.

He settles down on his haunches, a silent guardian of the place. One whose gold eyes look deeply, deeply unimpressed to see Hector at these doors again, all things considered.

There's no noise from the wolf though, save a short, sharp huff that ought to bring attention.]

[ Leon's still tense, from the stinging and threading of the wound. The blood loss has left certain surreality to the scene, and though he'd seen the blurry figure above him tending to the injury sites, a lot of it still felt like a fever dream. His Adam's apple bobs once in his throat as he swallows, the realization the Alucard has finished with him beginning to sink in. Not once has he looked at the gashes, and yet the other man... ]

"I'm sorry." [ Though Leon hadn't thrashed or screamed (he'd done his best to limit himself to twisting and groaning), he feels bad for having shafted the task onto Alucard so suddenly. He's drenched in sweat himself, his body and clothing heavy. ]

"I should be nothing but grateful, as you remember me despite having returned to your time."
[ He feels to weak to move, and waits for his head to come back down from wherever it'd headed. ]

[Alucard's washing his own hands now. Yes, he's had leather gloves on the entire time, but it is a matter of principle. His mother would haunt him for failing to do such a basic task.]

I'm amazed you're still conscious.

[That much is genuine. It is in fact some kind of weird miracle. Alucard's had to help Sypha with Trevor getting himself far more injured than he ought to before, and passing out was sometimes the best thing for everyone involved.]

What you should do is close your eyes and try to rest. I'll go get you blankets, given the damage sustained to your clothes.

"As am I." [ He'd endured similar undergoings times before, but the faintness he had felt promised a black out at any moment. Watching Alucard wash his hands reminds Leon of Mathias tending to him after a battle, and he turns his head the other way from unwanted allusion. There isn't room to try and understand vampire Dracula's pain, not after he'd had so many innocent lives stolen for the sake of some rock. As far as Leon was concerned, Mathias died alongside the man's humanity. ]

"You did wonderfully, though. I'll do as you say." [ He watches the portrait of himself. ]
"It's strange to see my portrait here after I'm long dead." [ In a time without vampires, he thinks. But is that the case? ]

"Adrian, are there other creatures of the night to remain besides yourself? I'm unaware of vampirical politics, whether there are any others helping humans, but..."
[ Perhaps he won't be told. ]

Bullheadedness seems to be an inherited trait.

[Alucard's not asked Trevor much about the family that was murdered by the church. What they were like, what growing up in this home was like. It is a tender subject, and Alucard trusts that if Trevor ever wants to discuss it, he'll do so in his own time. But one thing is clear: stubbornness? That's genetic, it just manifests differently.

Towel in hand, Alucard dries off his hand, then rises to his feet. Blanket mission is much more important.]

That is...a complicated question. They have little love of me and the feeling is mutual. Many vampires on the level with my father have not survived. Others have kept their distance for any number of reasons. At the moment, I would advise you don't focus on something that trivial.

I'll be back shortly.

[Alucard's kept a small collection of pillows and blankets down in the Hold. Sypha has fallen asleep in there too many times for him not to, so all he does is walk over Leon's feet and go straight down into the Hold itself to retrieve the blanket.

He returns with a thick woolen thing, along with a feather pillow under his arm. This next part Alucard performs as impersonally as he can, sliding the towel out from under Leon's head and replacing it with the pillow, then draping the blanket over him entirely. With Trevor or Sypha, it'd be a far more tender action.]

[ Leon curls his abs so that the pillow can come under his head. He shifts beneath the newly attained blanket, some pain surging through his leg as he does. When he's settled under, he exhales, wondering if whether or not such questions had actually been so trivial. Sure, he had little ability to do anything with the affairs of this time, but his curiosity remained. ]

"Thank you." [ For the blanket and the pillow. ]

[ He wants to ask more questions, but feels that doing so is in direct defiance of not focusing on trivialities, so. ]
"...After you returned here, Rinaldo wouldn't believe that I met with you in his cabin. He thought I made you up." [ He shuts his eyes, like he's trying to find enough peace to let himself sleep. ]

Mmm.

[This feels like the bare minimum of what should be done, all things considered. His father would not look kindly on providing any Belmont medical treatment, never mind the Belmont who began a centuries long hunt for his own life. Alucard's mother would have found some way to knock him out already and keep it that way for some time to come. Trevor, well, that's the point where everything in terms of trains of thought grow exhausting.]

I just told Trevor and Sypha that it was the weirdest dream. They agreed.

[A lot weird.]

Doesn't matter, in the end. I just hope that when you return to your own time, none of these injuries travel with you.

[Sitting directly in between Hector and the castle is probably the only way to really guarantee catching Hector's attention. He stops, out of breath, and stares down the wolf.]

Is he here? I will hunt him down and have my revenge of him.

[He's shaking with anger, amplified by the fatigue of traveling with barely a thought of rest.]

He has to be here. There's nowhere else he'd choose, that over-dramatic bastard. Move aside!

"I hope so, too. Assuming that thing is still there waiting for me, I'll need to be able to fight it without any kind of constraint. Maybe I should try and find my own journal here, so I know how to go about killing it."

[ But Trevor and Sypha? ]
"...Trevor and Sypha must be your comrades? I'm glad that you've made friends. I imagine that being utterly alone as one of a kind would be difficult."

[The wolf sighs. The form isn't enough to break Hector of whatever rage has claimed him now, and so Alucard is himself again. There's no coat over his shoulders this time, just his shirt and trousers, and his face is barely changed. There's something hung around his neck, if the flash of metal around the collar of his shirt is anything to go by, but that's the only part of him that has truly changed.]

His tone is firm and sober, hoping the same qualities might transfer to Hector and his bullheadedness.]

There is no one here aside from myself, Hector. There has been no one here beside myself for the past week.

I can look that much up for you, although I'll need to wear several layers worth of gloves. The simple covers were later replaced with silver ones by one of your descendants. And that will be done later.

[Meaning Alucard leaves touching them to Trevor and Sypha most days. But there's firmness in Alucard's voice, the sort that hints that this kind of discussion is best saved for later on. When there isn't an injured Belmont to deal with.]

Trevor Belmont, one of your great-several-times-over grandsons.

You need to rest, not speculate or talk right now.

[ With Alucard not budging on talking, Leon is left with no distraction and reluctantly complies to rest. ]

[ A day of very little mobility passes, Leon keeping himself entertained by reading an entire anthology of monsters, complete with illustrations and descriptions. He's never been one for reading, far too restless with an attention span that always compels him anywhere besides the book. Only like this, confined to his makeshift bed, is he able to get through anything— and only by scanning the contents. When he's finished looking through the illustrations by an apparent later Belmont (no first names carry any weight), he feels his boredom suffocating himself. ]

[ His body may still be aching, but he doesn't care. He has to move, he's getting too stir crazy. ]
[ Leon follows the sounds of Alucard sifting through unsorted books, careful not to be too loud in approaching him. His voice breaks the quiet, perhaps to the other's dismay. ]

"Allow me to help you? Surely I may lend a hand with something." [ Polite and mild, but still intrusive. ]

[While Leon sleeps, Alucard tries to evaluate the best thing to do in the situation. Laid out where he is is hardly appropriate, and yet the castle? The castle feels wrong. Like some ghost of Alucard's father will return from sheer rage at permitting Leon Belmont into the castle.

So Alucard makes a more comfortable space for Leon to rest in down in the Hold proper, beside the lectern where the index resides. There's a mattress underneath him, additional pillows, and blankets off to the side should more be needed. That's in addition to a pitcher of water and a glass, as well as Alucard sitting at a work bench beside the lectern, carefully cataloging recent additions that have been brought home by Trevor and Sypha.

He's gotten Leon books when he can. Illustrated, if only for the safety of future Belmonts. Touching the journals has been impossible, even with layers of gloves. It's still agony to handle them.

Alucard's putting some of the new books away when Leon finds him. His head snaps in Leon's direction, and it's accompanied with a deep set frown.]

You shouldn't even be up! [Alucard, in a sane moment, will realize that he shouldn't be surprised by this. Trevor's just as bad at the concept of resting while injured.] Go lie back down.

[Hector looks past Alucard, as if he expects Isaac to pop out from the treeline and prove him a liar. His rival does not appear. The fairy at his shoulder doesn't whisper to him of things unseen to his human eyes. Hector shakes his head.]

That doesn't make sense. Everything he's done has been in parallel.

[He can't think of a reason Adrian would lie about this, though to be honest, he can barely think at all.]

He wants me to find him. He said I was too weak and pathetic as I was, and that I had to regain my powers so I could face him.

[He clenches his fists. Dracula had given the Wallachians a year before he launched his attack. Did Isaac think to elude him for the same interval?]

I've missed an entire sequence of events here to make sense of just about anything you've said.

[Alucard's in no mood to yell aross the threshold of his own home, and so he steps forward to approach Hector properly. He would be a liar if he said he wasn't also taking advantage of the movement to see if Hector has been followed by certain friends that Alucard likes much, much more than Hector himself, but asking after pets is not the correct thing to do right now.

His frown is clear though, as is the tension in Alucard's frame.]

Care to clarify?

I genuinely apologize that the stairs aren't functional or safe yet.

[Upon Trevor's and Sypha's departure, one of the things that Alucard had occupied himself with was reconstructing the staircase that led down into the Belmont Hold. Well. Removing all the blood, then reconstruction. It was something far easier said than done, even after he found the original plans for the structure within the Hold's curious collection of architectural drawings. On the old sheets of vellum were attempts to understand the layout of his father's castle, coupled with construction plans for the old Belmont estate. The Hold's last staircase had been redesigned in the 1300s by a Theodora Belmont, and the details within proved to be not only accurate, but incredibly helpful.

But being only one person meant that the work took time, and even now, there's things yet to be done. Railings line only one side of the stairs, the stairs themselves cut off about halfway through, and so all access to the Hold has been with the use of the single rope ladder that dangles all the way down to the ground. Alucard usually floats himself up and down, but with a perfectly human guest, it's wrong to not share the burden of going down and up the thing.

Alucard is quick to go past the watchful eyes of Leon Belmont (he hates that portrait, swears it judges him every time he must walk by it), and his hand rests on the doorknob that opens down to the Hold proper.

He looks over his shoulder for a moment, just to ensure Dorian is still with him.]

Do I owe you a view of the sea monster first, or should I simply point you towards the index so you can get lost in all the texts here?

[Hector’s pets, unfortunately for Alucard, remain at his home, in the care of a hastily-constructed golem. A mission of revenge is no place for such gentle souls.

Hector looks Adrian over. The sight of him, almost entirely unchanged, brings back memories of the times of his life better left forgotten. He looks away.]

After I left, I gave up forging. I ran until I was certain I’d buried any trail the demons of my past could follow, and I slunk away to a backwater village no one had ever heard of to spend the rest of my life in seclusion.

Then I met Rosaly. [Speaking her name twists the dagger in his gut another turn. He feels her absence viscerally, as if he’s been carved up and every vital part of him removed.

His voice comes out in a growl.] I don’t know...if Isaac took this long to find me...or if he knew all along, and was just waiting...letting me find true happiness just so he could rip it away.

[His voice breaks. His anger is the only pillar left within him, keeping him from total collapse. He has to hold on to it.]

He told the villagers she was a witch. Rosaly spent every day of her life caring for their wounds, curing their fevers, loving them beyond what any person could deserve...and they burned her.

[There had been nothing left but ash. Isaac has seen to it. No flesh or bones left that Hector could have revived even at the height of his power.]

[Alucard's still as Hector explains. His friends are at home, and it's a mark of slight wisdom that Hector has made that decision. The world's instructed him a little more over the past several years, but that's until Hector says the w word.

At that, Alucard's features become harder set. He knows the little bubble of anger that begins to rise in his stomach. He's had it every time some new horrible rumor of a witch execution passes by through the Speakers or when Trevor and Sypha return home. There is some church man, the Speakers say, who wants to write a book about detecting witches. That the title might be Malleus Maleficarum, and Alucard hates it.

His mother's death wasn't one man's attempt at gaining power in the church. It was a herald of things to come. Hector's words only confirm it.]

I understand the devestation of that kind of loss.

[After all, what had brought Hector to this castle in the first place? And is Hector not weathering that grief better than Dracula, by focusing on only one man rather than the world?

Those are thoughts to unpack later.]

I do not know the man, beyond the fact he is why Carmilla never made to these doors. I cannot say what his intentions are. [Alucard sighs. He can't believe the words that come out of his own mouth.]

Come in then. There's little to be gained from discussing this where a passing breeze can overhear.

[Grief has made Hector selfish. He’s seen the parallel between his Rosaly and Lisa of Lupu, but until he comes face to face with her son’s empathy, he hadn’t registered it. Hector’s shattered heart screams that no one could possibly comprehend the depths of his pain...but that’s hyperbole born of his despair. Adrian has stood where he now stands, or close enough.

He nods. Not knowing where to pursue Isaac, he’s directionless. Having anyone, even the dhampir, tell him where to go is a relief. When they are safely within the walls, he can speak further on Isaac.]

Isaac loved Dracula, fanatically. He wants everyone who had a hand in his fall destroyed. He’ll turn his sights to you and your hunters in time, if I don’t stop him. He’s smart, and patient, and nothing is sacred to him.

[He draws his hammer, the one that he’d abandoned at Carmilla’s keep, and that Isaac had dropped at his feet as he told Hector what he’d done.]

He said he couldn’t be bothered to kill me until I regained my strength. It’s all a sick game to him.

[ He doesn’t, not yet, but the invitation is noted. Instead he pulls back to let Alucard speak and to answer. ]

Not here. [ To demonstrate, or maybe just because he can, he extends a wing to cover Alucard. It’s been a long time since he was able to do that. He misses it. ] Just don’t try to rip ‘em out, or you’ll wake me up.

[ And that would be tragic. ]

[The castle doors open without Alucard uttering a word or even gesturing. He simply starts walking towards them, and they open just enough to let both men pass through.]

If I was a creature of hubris, I might say something about what my father's defeat required. But I refuse to invite ruin upon this house by tempting the fates, and you have a far stronger measure of the man than I ever will.

[Alucard's words don't echo in the main hall, which has been set to rights. Oh, there are still scars of battle on the floor and along the walls, but anything well and truly destroyed has long since been replaced. Alucard keeps walking, past the grand staircase and off to the side, staring down a corridor.]

It may be a game, but it is also vengence for an idealized version of a man. [The Dracula of legend. Not the one who spent twenty years living a life as ordinary as anyone else's.]

I have no interest in defending anything but this home and my... [nope don't say anything kind of relationshippy, that's just rude Alucard] those who share this place with me. So answer me this: is he inclined to come for the three of us and save you for last, or vice versa?

[Alucard's debated how to address the hammer being out. He doesn't like it, not one bit.] Please keep that thing closer to the ground unless absolutely required.

Catch All

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In which Dorian probably just go be BFF with Sypha instead, set like, set halfway thru BS thread

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