[Alucard looks up when Sypha announces herself, and he takes the moment to close his book before looking up. There's a warm smile on his face, although Alucard isn't about to rise up from his very comfy spot at the moment.]
Thank you. I'm sorry that I lost track of time and you had to complete the task instead.
[He's better about that, most days.]
I think we can stand to call an end to this bet's stakes.
Thank you. I'm sorry that I lost track of time and you had to complete the task instead.
[He's better about that, most days.]
I think we can stand to call an end to this bet's stakes.
[Alucard is good at turning down the anger from an eight to a one. He's gained a firm command of it in the time that has passed since everything happened. He's had to, otherwise he risks following the same path as his father.
And all it requires is him taking a long, slow exhale that forces the worst thoughts out. They leave, he takes another breath, and the tension leaves him entirely.]
Apologies. I am being a poor host and my bedside manner is worse. [They're pleasant enough words, even if Alucard doesn't feel entirely sure saying them. Any other Belmont that isn't Trevor still puts him on edge. It can't be helped.]
The only good part of all of it was meeting your several times over great-grandson and Sypha.
And all it requires is him taking a long, slow exhale that forces the worst thoughts out. They leave, he takes another breath, and the tension leaves him entirely.]
Apologies. I am being a poor host and my bedside manner is worse. [They're pleasant enough words, even if Alucard doesn't feel entirely sure saying them. Any other Belmont that isn't Trevor still puts him on edge. It can't be helped.]
The only good part of all of it was meeting your several times over great-grandson and Sypha.
[The warm smile is still met with a look of suspicion, although Alucard hasn't exactly said too much on the matter at hand. And, the look only deepens when he says that they can call it off. She still remains watchful, regarding him.]
... why?
[Has he lost a bet? He is shirtless, after all.]
... why?
[Has he lost a bet? He is shirtless, after all.]
[Because you're mad at us????
No. Even Alucard knows that's the wrong answer.]
Because I lost a bet with myself about how long it would take for me to feel like we're just rubbing victory in your face, and how likely I was to take my own shirt off in solidarity.
No. Even Alucard knows that's the wrong answer.]
Because I lost a bet with myself about how long it would take for me to feel like we're just rubbing victory in your face, and how likely I was to take my own shirt off in solidarity.
in which Alucard is grounded and two idiot humans rescue him
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
miraclewhip
2019-08-13 12:27 am (UTC)(link)
[ It's- well. It's not what he expected. They've moved through sleeping quarters. Barracks. But this is a bedroom. A person's bedroom, with things that people like to have, rather than just spartan quarters for soldiers or lavish ones for honoured guests. It's as good a place as any.
Sypha's breathing is back to normal, at least, as he lays her down on the bed. Her words are still a little slurred in the few moments of lucidity she manages before sinking into sleep, but they're coherent enough to confirm she's still aware of her surroundings. The bruising on her temple isn't quite as bad as he feared. Maybe- maybe a little rest will be all she needs. She's- pretty, in her sleep, the nasty purple lump to the side of her head aside. She makes a soft distressed noise in her sleep - probably the pain of it - and almost unconsciously his hand falls upon a wolf doll and he hands it to her, smiling when she coils her body around it before catching himself and shaking his head.
Water. They need water. For her to sip at when she wakes, yes, but right now mostly to wash away the blood. They can't go about a castle of vampires with her reeking of it, and- god, even the smallest cuts to the head result in so much of the stuff. The castle's big, they can go undetected here as long as they're careful. But it's not so big that Dracula's entire fucking court won't descend upon the smell of fresh blood.
There was one of those bathing rooms not far away, and in it more of those metal veins that carry water through the castle. He doesn't like the idea of leaving Sypha alone, but they do need the water and it'll only be a matter of moments. ]
Sypha's breathing is back to normal, at least, as he lays her down on the bed. Her words are still a little slurred in the few moments of lucidity she manages before sinking into sleep, but they're coherent enough to confirm she's still aware of her surroundings. The bruising on her temple isn't quite as bad as he feared. Maybe- maybe a little rest will be all she needs. She's- pretty, in her sleep, the nasty purple lump to the side of her head aside. She makes a soft distressed noise in her sleep - probably the pain of it - and almost unconsciously his hand falls upon a wolf doll and he hands it to her, smiling when she coils her body around it before catching himself and shaking his head.
Water. They need water. For her to sip at when she wakes, yes, but right now mostly to wash away the blood. They can't go about a castle of vampires with her reeking of it, and- god, even the smallest cuts to the head result in so much of the stuff. The castle's big, they can go undetected here as long as they're careful. But it's not so big that Dracula's entire fucking court won't descend upon the smell of fresh blood.
There was one of those bathing rooms not far away, and in it more of those metal veins that carry water through the castle. He doesn't like the idea of leaving Sypha alone, but they do need the water and it'll only be a matter of moments. ]
[This place they're in, there's too many elements of the domestic. Like the place might have been lifted whole sale from some other space in the world, the home of a small, wealthy family picked up and tacked onto the castle. There's the cuddly wolf, yes, but the other old toys too. The books, the learning chart full of letters. It's a place to learn as much as it is to be, and so it goes for the next few rooms. A living room of soft furnishings lies just a few doors down, the open archway not hiding it. The pipes run along the ceiling, and they turn a sharp and sudden right into yet another room there.
It isn't a bathroom that lies there though. In a small space that might have once been a bedroom, or perhaps a living room, or perhaps something else all together, a great coffin lies. It's 45 degree angle is strange for anyone, vampire or not, and it is flanked on either side by two all too tall glass containers of blood. They're trying to balance each other out, the containers, connected to whatever it is that's in the coffin itself.
Silence is king in this terrible tiny space. Muted. Some kind of spell cast over it, forcing a solemnity.
But there is a window here, curtain kept open, so surely it cannot be a vampire's coffin.]
It isn't a bathroom that lies there though. In a small space that might have once been a bedroom, or perhaps a living room, or perhaps something else all together, a great coffin lies. It's 45 degree angle is strange for anyone, vampire or not, and it is flanked on either side by two all too tall glass containers of blood. They're trying to balance each other out, the containers, connected to whatever it is that's in the coffin itself.
Silence is king in this terrible tiny space. Muted. Some kind of spell cast over it, forcing a solemnity.
But there is a window here, curtain kept open, so surely it cannot be a vampire's coffin.]
[ This is- not the bathing room. His first instinct is to run. To run and gather up Sypha and run some more. A coffin and that much blood- it can't be anything good. But windows are rare here, and this one is uncovered. It's strange, to see the daylight, how the sun cuts through what has seemed until now like an eternal night.
This is an opportunity. If there's a vampire in there, then he just has to open the coffin up and let the sunlight hit them. They'll be gone without a sound, and until they're missed this part of the castle will be safer for it. If Sypha needs to rest a little longer, she'll be able to.
His mind made up, he grabs at the lid of the coffin. It's heavy, and it's smooth enough to be difficult to get a good grip on, but he slowly, slowly heaves it upward. ]
This is an opportunity. If there's a vampire in there, then he just has to open the coffin up and let the sunlight hit them. They'll be gone without a sound, and until they're missed this part of the castle will be safer for it. If Sypha needs to rest a little longer, she'll be able to.
His mind made up, he grabs at the lid of the coffin. It's heavy, and it's smooth enough to be difficult to get a good grip on, but he slowly, slowly heaves it upward. ]
[What's in there is a vampire.
It's impossible for it not to be, for what's inside is a young man with all too perfect hair, his arms folded over his chest, and in one of his arm, a needle attached to tubing that must connect to the big glass things outside of the coffin.
Slashed across his chest is a nasty, ugly crag that is an all too fresh scar, healed but barely so. The depth must have been the problem, coupled with the length, and for all of that pain, there is an additional feature: leg irons (padded, but still), with no length attached to them. The vampire, such as it is, has been bolted against the coffin and--
--a pair of gold eyes flutter open, accompanied by a soft noise.]
Ugh.
[The upper part of the vampire's body starts to float. To strain against the irons, and it is at that moment that the coffin's lid reveals the scratch marks made within.]
It's impossible for it not to be, for what's inside is a young man with all too perfect hair, his arms folded over his chest, and in one of his arm, a needle attached to tubing that must connect to the big glass things outside of the coffin.
Slashed across his chest is a nasty, ugly crag that is an all too fresh scar, healed but barely so. The depth must have been the problem, coupled with the length, and for all of that pain, there is an additional feature: leg irons (padded, but still), with no length attached to them. The vampire, such as it is, has been bolted against the coffin and--
--a pair of gold eyes flutter open, accompanied by a soft noise.]
Ugh.
[The upper part of the vampire's body starts to float. To strain against the irons, and it is at that moment that the coffin's lid reveals the scratch marks made within.]
[Adrian's always spoken so highly of his family. Defying Trevor's expectations once again, they actually sound like a happy family. Decent parents, who probably allowed Adrian to be a child at some point in his young life, rather than forcing him through endless drills and battle formations and paces and sparring and--
Casual alcoholism. Trevor refills their glasses and takes another sip of his own drink. This line of thinking isn't entirely fair, he knows this. Not to himself, and not to his family. The Belmonts were odd, for lack of a better word. But they weren't necessarily bad. Trevor's still learning to distinguish between the two, and that's part of the struggle in all this nonsense between himself and Adrian. Or even, himself, Adrian and Sypha. It's not normal by any standards he's known, but that doesn't mean it's bad.
And in any case, he's quite enjoying it.]
Do you like going to the movies? Or the theater? I'd have pegged you for box seats at the opera, but not cinema.
Casual alcoholism. Trevor refills their glasses and takes another sip of his own drink. This line of thinking isn't entirely fair, he knows this. Not to himself, and not to his family. The Belmonts were odd, for lack of a better word. But they weren't necessarily bad. Trevor's still learning to distinguish between the two, and that's part of the struggle in all this nonsense between himself and Adrian. Or even, himself, Adrian and Sypha. It's not normal by any standards he's known, but that doesn't mean it's bad.
And in any case, he's quite enjoying it.]
Do you like going to the movies? Or the theater? I'd have pegged you for box seats at the opera, but not cinema.
I've actually never attended an opera before. [Alucard shrugs, although he is careful to keep an eye on how quickly Trevor refills their glasses. He's not going to comment on the matter so early in the evening, but...
...he and Sypha know how to deal with Trevor's alcohol consumption. As long as it's just the bottle between the two of them and then a dinner wine, it's fine. Just enough to make sure the evening's nerves are gone, and if they both go to bed tonight having done no more than kissed, then that's perfectly fine by the dhampir.]
And yes, if our Netflix subscription and various art house streaming subscriptions didn't tell you, I do enjoy movies. Nearly as much as my mother and I enjoy watching my father complain. We used to see a film, place bets about what he'd complain about, then take him out to see who'd win.
[Those were good memories. The films were ranged from animated to deeply serious to just about anything from the Fast and the Furious franchise on principle. And there's a very thin, pained smile from that memory too. Ever since his mother's medical liscence was revoked it has been...fragile, back at the castle. Hard.]
Were you particularly young when you started getting dragged to places like this?
...he and Sypha know how to deal with Trevor's alcohol consumption. As long as it's just the bottle between the two of them and then a dinner wine, it's fine. Just enough to make sure the evening's nerves are gone, and if they both go to bed tonight having done no more than kissed, then that's perfectly fine by the dhampir.]
And yes, if our Netflix subscription and various art house streaming subscriptions didn't tell you, I do enjoy movies. Nearly as much as my mother and I enjoy watching my father complain. We used to see a film, place bets about what he'd complain about, then take him out to see who'd win.
[Those were good memories. The films were ranged from animated to deeply serious to just about anything from the Fast and the Furious franchise on principle. And there's a very thin, pained smile from that memory too. Ever since his mother's medical liscence was revoked it has been...fragile, back at the castle. Hard.]
Were you particularly young when you started getting dragged to places like this?
[Trevor has to stifle a snicker behind one hand, because something about the notion of Dracula bitching about movies is more entertaining than it has any right to be. It lends him a degree of humanity Trevor had never considered before Adrian came into his life, and it's as disconcerting as it is endearing. Trevor doesn't even question it anymore. He's sure there are only so many times Adrian can hear You're kidding, there is no way Dracula actually... before it gets nauseating.
But that's not the half of it on this particular point. Trevor shrugs, gesturing vaguely with one hand.]
Not places like this. I wouldn't bore you with the places my family dragged me to. They're... sycophantic. There's no heart or quality to it, just-- Just appearances, you know? Charity balls and award dinners, because God forbid you get on the Duke's bad side and lose his sponsorship; better to kiss ass and save face than actually do anything worthwhile for society.
[From Trevor's tone, it sounds as if worthwhile translates to anything but hunting monsters.]
So yes. They were parading me around from the time I was five or so. In tiny suits, with shoes I never kept on and always got a wollop for.
[Trevor's hand tightens momentarily around Adrian's, then relaxes again when he forces himself back to the present.]
But you've never been to an opera? [It's almost incredulous.] Carmen? Madama Butterfly? Tosca?
But that's not the half of it on this particular point. Trevor shrugs, gesturing vaguely with one hand.]
Not places like this. I wouldn't bore you with the places my family dragged me to. They're... sycophantic. There's no heart or quality to it, just-- Just appearances, you know? Charity balls and award dinners, because God forbid you get on the Duke's bad side and lose his sponsorship; better to kiss ass and save face than actually do anything worthwhile for society.
[From Trevor's tone, it sounds as if worthwhile translates to anything but hunting monsters.]
So yes. They were parading me around from the time I was five or so. In tiny suits, with shoes I never kept on and always got a wollop for.
[Trevor's hand tightens momentarily around Adrian's, then relaxes again when he forces himself back to the present.]
But you've never been to an opera? [It's almost incredulous.] Carmen? Madama Butterfly? Tosca?
[In fairness, somrt of it is because it's just so much fun to get Dracula going, especially when it came to the world outside of the castle. Dracula is still a man of invention, but for all that he might have ever been able to predict cameras and film and all the other parts of it, he alone could not create content.
And no way he could dream up Hamlet But With Lions.
Alucard is careful to listen though. Trevor talks so little about his own family, and so when he does, Alucard is always at full attention. The squeeze of his hand doesn't matter. Alucard's dealt with worse.]
I'm sure that you at least looked extremely charming.
[He'll move away from the subject, only because Trevor's discomfort is clear.]
I have not. And if that's your next date idea, then I'm very enthusiastic.
And no way he could dream up Hamlet But With Lions.
Alucard is careful to listen though. Trevor talks so little about his own family, and so when he does, Alucard is always at full attention. The squeeze of his hand doesn't matter. Alucard's dealt with worse.]
I'm sure that you at least looked extremely charming.
[He'll move away from the subject, only because Trevor's discomfort is clear.]
I have not. And if that's your next date idea, then I'm very enthusiastic.
You're damn right it is.
[Not that Trevor is an avid opera fan or anything, but live musical theater is an experience Adrian should have. Adrian, of all people, because just sitting here as he is, he looks like the caliber that belongs in an opera box seat with tiny gold binoculars. As if anyone in this restaurant could stop by the table and start discussing the finer points of Matisse or Verdi or Tarkovsky, and Adrian could navigate the conversation just as fluently from any point.
The realization makes Trevor feel out of place. Because he's never looked like he belonged in high society. And maybe he doesn't, and that's perfectly fine, but beside Adrian?
Adrian makes him want to do better. Be better.]
In fact, that's where I'm taking you and Sypha on our date together. We're getting box seats. Samson and Delilah is playing this month, and your jaw will hit the floor when you walk into the National Opera. If anything can rival your father's castle...
[Not that Trevor is an avid opera fan or anything, but live musical theater is an experience Adrian should have. Adrian, of all people, because just sitting here as he is, he looks like the caliber that belongs in an opera box seat with tiny gold binoculars. As if anyone in this restaurant could stop by the table and start discussing the finer points of Matisse or Verdi or Tarkovsky, and Adrian could navigate the conversation just as fluently from any point.
The realization makes Trevor feel out of place. Because he's never looked like he belonged in high society. And maybe he doesn't, and that's perfectly fine, but beside Adrian?
Adrian makes him want to do better. Be better.]
In fact, that's where I'm taking you and Sypha on our date together. We're getting box seats. Samson and Delilah is playing this month, and your jaw will hit the floor when you walk into the National Opera. If anything can rival your father's castle...
[Alucard lets out a soft laugh, and he pauses so that he can put his other hand on the table. He leans his cheek against his hand, content.]
I like going out with you. It makes you come up with more ideas for continuing to be out.
[It's said with a very, very warm tone. And he can't read Trevor's mind, right now, but if he could, the dhampir would be all but glowing from the words. Then gently tutting at Trevor's low estimation of himself.
But the waiter appears for all the appropriate orders before Alucard can say much more, and all the lovey dovey glances from the dhampir disappear for just a few minutes. He's all polite business, asking questions about ingredients and then settling on a rack of lamb with a red wine to pair with it.]
I like going out with you. It makes you come up with more ideas for continuing to be out.
[It's said with a very, very warm tone. And he can't read Trevor's mind, right now, but if he could, the dhampir would be all but glowing from the words. Then gently tutting at Trevor's low estimation of himself.
But the waiter appears for all the appropriate orders before Alucard can say much more, and all the lovey dovey glances from the dhampir disappear for just a few minutes. He's all polite business, asking questions about ingredients and then settling on a rack of lamb with a red wine to pair with it.]
[ Already, Trevor has a metal spike at the vampire's heart. He doesn't stab, not yet, but- ]
What the fuck?
[ The sunlight's definitely falling on him. On bare skin, even, and doing absolutely fucking nothing. He takes note of that, but also of the irons. Of the scar, of the grooves dug into the coffin by claws matching the shards stone under the vampire's nails. Someone's pissed Dracula off, haven't they? That could be good news for them, if he plays this right. ]
Call for reinforcements, and I stab down. [ He forces his voice steady. ] Otherwise, my friend and I need a guide. Give your word to help us find our way through the castle, and I'll let you out.
What the fuck?
[ The sunlight's definitely falling on him. On bare skin, even, and doing absolutely fucking nothing. He takes note of that, but also of the irons. Of the scar, of the grooves dug into the coffin by claws matching the shards stone under the vampire's nails. Someone's pissed Dracula off, haven't they? That could be good news for them, if he plays this right. ]
Call for reinforcements, and I stab down. [ He forces his voice steady. ] Otherwise, my friend and I need a guide. Give your word to help us find our way through the castle, and I'll let you out.
[What the fuck indeed. Alucard's eyes settle on Trevor, staring at the man with confusion and anger in his eyes. There are humans in his father's castle, and they're alive so far. It's a turn of events that he didn't anticipate, but he doesn't trust it either.
Not with a stake over his heart. Not without knowing the situation in full.]
Tell me when it is first.
Not with a stake over his heart. Not without knowing the situation in full.]
Tell me when it is first.
[ He doesn't move the stake. Not until he knows that Alucard isn't going to bring the entire population of the castle here. Even talking like this seems a risky move, with Sypha in her current state. But they're not doing so brilliantly here that he can afford to let an opportunity like this pass. ]
1476. It's- shit. [ They've been here in the castle just under a week, probably. It feels that long, anyway. ] February? Probably.
1476. It's- shit. [ They've been here in the castle just under a week, probably. It feels that long, anyway. ] February? Probably.
[A year. It's been a year.
The dhampir takes a scant moment to collect himself, because that's the only time he can afford to give the first year of his mother's murder the acknowledgement it deserves. A year in a damn coffin, healing and then being held against his will. A year.
His eyes return to Trevor, keen and narrow and trying to divine if this is a true temporary ally, or some other new problem that will only distract him from doing the grim work that must be done.]
You've brought yourself and another mortal into Dracula's castle. Why?
The dhampir takes a scant moment to collect himself, because that's the only time he can afford to give the first year of his mother's murder the acknowledgement it deserves. A year in a damn coffin, healing and then being held against his will. A year.
His eyes return to Trevor, keen and narrow and trying to divine if this is a true temporary ally, or some other new problem that will only distract him from doing the grim work that must be done.]
You've brought yourself and another mortal into Dracula's castle. Why?
[ He draws the stake back. Not entirely, but a little. Far enough that he can reach up to pull the cloak back from over his family crest. ]
Only one reason Belmonts ever seek out Dracula, isn't there?
[ Enough questions. He tests the weight of the coffin's lid - too fucking heavy, but he can just about move it again if he needs to. ] I can get you out, or I can close your box again and pretend this shit never happened. Your choice.
[ There's also the third option, involving the stake, but he's pretty sure that one goes without saying. ]
Only one reason Belmonts ever seek out Dracula, isn't there?
[ Enough questions. He tests the weight of the coffin's lid - too fucking heavy, but he can just about move it again if he needs to. ] I can get you out, or I can close your box again and pretend this shit never happened. Your choice.
[ There's also the third option, involving the stake, but he's pretty sure that one goes without saying. ]
Edited 2019-08-13 13:21 (UTC)
[Belmont.
Alucard heard the surname a few times growing up. People to be careful and aware of. People to stay away from, and so Alucard had. It was easy when you grew up away from most of the world. He'd contest Trevor's claims even now - anyone can wear a crest, after all - but there's a part of him that knows it all to be true.
Hunter. Scholar. Soldier. This Belmont mentioned that there was another in addition to himself. That must be the Scholar, and so...
...and so Alucard knows that this betrayal is just another in a series of betrayals against his father. That this is not only patricide, by allyship with an ancient foe that has tried to take the life of Vlad Dracula Tepes dozens of times over. It hurts.
The Belmont doesn't get to know that. He only gets cold, calm, golden eyes staring at him.]
We have an agreement.
Alucard heard the surname a few times growing up. People to be careful and aware of. People to stay away from, and so Alucard had. It was easy when you grew up away from most of the world. He'd contest Trevor's claims even now - anyone can wear a crest, after all - but there's a part of him that knows it all to be true.
Hunter. Scholar. Soldier. This Belmont mentioned that there was another in addition to himself. That must be the Scholar, and so...
...and so Alucard knows that this betrayal is just another in a series of betrayals against his father. That this is not only patricide, by allyship with an ancient foe that has tried to take the life of Vlad Dracula Tepes dozens of times over. It hurts.
The Belmont doesn't get to know that. He only gets cold, calm, golden eyes staring at him.]
We have an agreement.
Good.
[ He kneels, examining the irons. It's- odd, that they would be padded. All of this is odd. The vampire's been held here against his will, clearly, but at least a token effort has been made to keep him - if not comfortable in imprisonment, at least less uncomfortable than he could have been. He uses the metal stake to break the stone around the bolts and it's louder and messier than he'd have hoped, but it works.
The massive containers of blood as as much of a relief as massive containers of blood could ever be. Hopefully, they'll throw off the scent of his and Sypha's own blood. But still, cleaning that blood up is probably a priority. Time to find out if Alucard really does intend to guide them. ]
Water, first. Clean water. My partner's hurt, and she's not going any deeper into the castle while she still reeks of blood.
[ The only time Trevor Belmont is going to advocate for cleaning wounds: when the smell of blood might alert vampires to your presence. ]
[ He kneels, examining the irons. It's- odd, that they would be padded. All of this is odd. The vampire's been held here against his will, clearly, but at least a token effort has been made to keep him - if not comfortable in imprisonment, at least less uncomfortable than he could have been. He uses the metal stake to break the stone around the bolts and it's louder and messier than he'd have hoped, but it works.
The massive containers of blood as as much of a relief as massive containers of blood could ever be. Hopefully, they'll throw off the scent of his and Sypha's own blood. But still, cleaning that blood up is probably a priority. Time to find out if Alucard really does intend to guide them. ]
Water, first. Clean water. My partner's hurt, and she's not going any deeper into the castle while she still reeks of blood.
[ The only time Trevor Belmont is going to advocate for cleaning wounds: when the smell of blood might alert vampires to your presence. ]
[Before Alucard does anything else, he turns his attention to the needle still in his vein. Before he removes it, his eyes look around his immediate surroundings, and it is by fortune that a little stopper has been left in the coffin with him. He takes that in hand first before he removes the needle, and then once it's out, the stopper is immediately placed atop it.
There. No blood spillage.]
There is a bathroom a few more doors down. We'll begin there.
[The next part comes off as dramatic, with Alucard carefully floating up in a steady line, before uprighting himself and coming to put both of his feet on the ground. In truth, it's a way for him to test muscular atrophy and determine if he can easily walk on his own two legs, or if he'll need time to recover.
He doesn't.
So he takes the sword and the coat that are in the coffin, arms himself, then tugs the coat on.]
This way.
[It's easy to treat this all casually as he walks down the corridor, past three more doors before hanging a right into a bathroom that's all clean tile and simple lines.]
How injured is your associate?
There. No blood spillage.]
There is a bathroom a few more doors down. We'll begin there.
[The next part comes off as dramatic, with Alucard carefully floating up in a steady line, before uprighting himself and coming to put both of his feet on the ground. In truth, it's a way for him to test muscular atrophy and determine if he can easily walk on his own two legs, or if he'll need time to recover.
He doesn't.
So he takes the sword and the coat that are in the coffin, arms himself, then tugs the coat on.]
This way.
[It's easy to treat this all casually as he walks down the corridor, past three more doors before hanging a right into a bathroom that's all clean tile and simple lines.]
How injured is your associate?
Hard to tell with knocks to the head. Hoping she'll be up and about in a few hours. If not-
[ -he just cuts off, because he doesn't really know what to do if not. Everything in him says to call off this whole mad business and get her somewhere safe and then try again alone, like he should have done in the first place. There was a window, and they didn't look too far from the ground. He could climb down with her. He'd just have to hope that the castle doesn't just disappear again once he's outside it. ]
-If not, we get to see what happens if someone tries to throw fireballs around with a concussion. It'll be entertaining, if nothing else.
[ He retreats into bravado as he takes a washbowl and fills it with hot water. He's figured out how to open the veins by now, at least, and how some of them are hot and some are cold. ]
[ -he just cuts off, because he doesn't really know what to do if not. Everything in him says to call off this whole mad business and get her somewhere safe and then try again alone, like he should have done in the first place. There was a window, and they didn't look too far from the ground. He could climb down with her. He'd just have to hope that the castle doesn't just disappear again once he's outside it. ]
-If not, we get to see what happens if someone tries to throw fireballs around with a concussion. It'll be entertaining, if nothing else.
[ He retreats into bravado as he takes a washbowl and fills it with hot water. He's figured out how to open the veins by now, at least, and how some of them are hot and some are cold. ]
[Trevor may be filling the washbin with water, but it's Alucard who goes to the small linen closet in the corner and pulls out a little wooden box. It's a first aid kit, one of several squirreled away in the house because it's so damn big and his mother refused to hike for miles during an emergency.
He holds the chest close to him, eyes never quite leaving Trevor.]
That sounds like a bad idea at best, and a quick way to be captured at worst, if not outright killed.
[They shouldn't be here. None of them should. He's quiet as he heads to the door, then stops to wait for Trevor.]
You'll have to lead me to which room she's in.
He holds the chest close to him, eyes never quite leaving Trevor.]
That sounds like a bad idea at best, and a quick way to be captured at worst, if not outright killed.
[They shouldn't be here. None of them should. He's quiet as he heads to the door, then stops to wait for Trevor.]
You'll have to lead me to which room she's in.
Oh, it’s a shitty idea. Just one with a better chance of success than getting out of here alive and then finding our way back.
[ He looks at the box with some suspicion, and grits his teeth at the idea of leaving - turning his back to Alucard. When he does set off it’s with an awkward side step, trying to watch the vampire and watch where he’s going at once. ]
There’s a bedroom a little way down here, I left her there.
[ If it wasn’t obvious where Trevor is referring to, it becomes obvious before long. Sure enough, there’s a speaker in Alucard’s bed. A speaker sleeping peacefully, the very picture of contentment aside from a nasty bruise on one side of her head. There’s a shallow cut at its centre, as if her head was struck against the edge of something, weeping blood slowly. ]
[ He looks at the box with some suspicion, and grits his teeth at the idea of leaving - turning his back to Alucard. When he does set off it’s with an awkward side step, trying to watch the vampire and watch where he’s going at once. ]
There’s a bedroom a little way down here, I left her there.
[ If it wasn’t obvious where Trevor is referring to, it becomes obvious before long. Sure enough, there’s a speaker in Alucard’s bed. A speaker sleeping peacefully, the very picture of contentment aside from a nasty bruise on one side of her head. There’s a shallow cut at its centre, as if her head was struck against the edge of something, weeping blood slowly. ]
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