[Alucard walks past the portrait of Leon in the hold with even warier eyes these days. Sypha and Trevor are yet to return home, and so he's yet to tell them of the experience of being thrown back into 11th century France, and his own uncertainty of how that matter came to pass. All he can say with confidence at this moment is that he most certainly had some sort of connection to the founder of the Belmont crusade against his father, and it was absolutely as bizarre and awkward as he might have ever expected the encounter to be.
It doesn't help that the Hold's staircase is still a work in progress, requiring Alucard to float up and down in order to access it. If he was a man who believed in such things, he'd swear the eyes of the portrait observed every ascent and descent.
Tonight, he's working well into the night with a pile of books - recent additions to the Hold that were never cataloged. They're mostly preoccupied with werethings in the west of Europe, and there's no personal connection to that. Managing the Hold is sometimes more fraught than Alucard expected Trevor thought it would be - there's so much discussion of killing things like himself that it does become overwhelming.
He sighs, reaching for a book that is simply a volume on alchemy.]
Last one. There's not enough light here.
[They're words said to an empty room. Alucard has managed to bullshit himself an eletric lantern for the Hold, but yet to rig up a proper electrical lighting system like the castle has.]
Ghost of Dads Past
It doesn't help that the Hold's staircase is still a work in progress, requiring Alucard to float up and down in order to access it. If he was a man who believed in such things, he'd swear the eyes of the portrait observed every ascent and descent.
Tonight, he's working well into the night with a pile of books - recent additions to the Hold that were never cataloged. They're mostly preoccupied with werethings in the west of Europe, and there's no personal connection to that. Managing the Hold is sometimes more fraught than Alucard expected Trevor thought it would be - there's so much discussion of killing things like himself that it does become overwhelming.
He sighs, reaching for a book that is simply a volume on alchemy.]
Last one. There's not enough light here.
[They're words said to an empty room. Alucard has managed to bullshit himself an eletric lantern for the Hold, but yet to rig up a proper electrical lighting system like the castle has.]