[ He likes his garden. Their garden, really, but he’s the one who’s laid claim to it. The word suits him well, physical and filthy and sometimes difficult. Easy to take pride in, when it’s hard to find things to be proud of. And it all dies, every winter, and there’s a comfort to that.
He’s comfortable here in a way he never was anywhere before, in a way he’s still working on being within the walls of the castle proper. So comfortable that he doesn’t make a habit of wearing the eyepatch out here. ]
What is- shit!
[ He’d been in the process of turning toward Alucard and the guest and swiftly turns away again, fumbling around in his pocket for that strip of cloth that Alucard hates so much. ]
no subject
He’s comfortable here in a way he never was anywhere before, in a way he’s still working on being within the walls of the castle proper. So comfortable that he doesn’t make a habit of wearing the eyepatch out here. ]
What is- shit!
[ He’d been in the process of turning toward Alucard and the guest and swiftly turns away again, fumbling around in his pocket for that strip of cloth that Alucard hates so much. ]
You have to warn me when we’re expecting guests.