[ The room twists, and he thinks he knows what that means right now. He scrunches his eyes closed and waits for unconsciousness to wash over him. It doesn't. That's not what this is. The world just continues being all wrong as the ground falls away from beneath his useless feet and- his right arm still obeys him, and he tries to use it to hold on to Alucard. It's stiff and weak and it feels like he's doing something wrong, but he tries.
Then there's ground again, soft but solid and cold and he gives up on understanding anything. None of this seems real anymore.
The other two don't have the luxury of retreating into their minds like that, because Carmilla is very much real. Looking down at the three of them, she extend a hand and clicks her fingers.
The castle comes to life. Not in the way Dracula's does, not with gears and engines and a rumbling semi-conciousness. In the way that an anthill comes to life, all writhing creatures pouring out of the open main doors and clambering up the walls, winged ones launching themselves downward from the hole left by the broken walkway toward Alucard and Sypha. ]
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Then there's ground again, soft but solid and cold and he gives up on understanding anything. None of this seems real anymore.
The other two don't have the luxury of retreating into their minds like that, because Carmilla is very much real. Looking down at the three of them, she extend a hand and clicks her fingers.
The castle comes to life. Not in the way Dracula's does, not with gears and engines and a rumbling semi-conciousness. In the way that an anthill comes to life, all writhing creatures pouring out of the open main doors and clambering up the walls, winged ones launching themselves downward from the hole left by the broken walkway toward Alucard and Sypha. ]