It's your money you're ripping apart.

[They might just rip anyway, even if Alucard is as careful as can be as he works the damn things down to around his thighs. It's a process that involves a bit of deeply undignified wiggling (absolutely a show by accident), and a few moments of pacing around to try and find a better angle to get the damn things off. The struggle? The struggle is so real.]

Help? Trevor, you're treating this like it's a film, obnoxious straw slurping and all.

[But the stupid things are at Alucard's knees now, and from there, no struggle remains. Alucard slides the leggings off entirely and kicks them to the side. Alucard's legs are most certainly not their usual pale selves at the moment, but rather a faint red from the return of circulation to the areas that were starting to be cut off. Satisfied with that and that alone, Alucard makes his way over and sits himself at the edge of the bed, relieved.]

Well, we now know that I look amazing in them as predicted, but unless they make leggings for men, we should not do that again any time soon.