[ Early winter isn't the worst time to have to use only real, human food, but it's close. He's not failed to return with food yet, he's too proud to return empty-handed, but his ventures away from the house-shaped cage that Alucard is confined to take longer than they might earlier in the year. It would be easier if one could just feed humans on meat, hunting living things is simple, but plants that humans might be willing to eat are growing more and more scarce.
The place is- not entirely finished. It didn't exist until he needed a place to put the human, and now it's in a state of existing only as much as it needs to. The bedroom and washroom and kitchen exist, yes, but other doors lead to nowhere. The parts of the walls Alucard wouldn't have been able to see from his bed shift about, because he hasn't decided what should be there yet. the world outside the windows is too bright to really see. In this state, it's easier to see it for what it is - a thing constructed to be an ideal. To make someone want to stay there. No doubt that one of those nothing-doors would prove to lead to a reading room if Alucard suggested a fondness for books. Or lead outside into a garden.
It's a little much to call it an illusion - it's real enough for all human purposes. But it's a thing built for Alucard. A thing built to keep him in. ]
You're- shit.
[ Trevor puts down a basket of plums as soon as he enters - no meat today. Two days ago he returned with a deer and they don't eat that quickly - and turns his attention to Alucard instead, concerned. He's awake and moving about. Should he be? Are humans even allowed to walk around if they're hurt? ]
Are your feet healed enough to be walking around like that?
no subject
The place is- not entirely finished. It didn't exist until he needed a place to put the human, and now it's in a state of existing only as much as it needs to. The bedroom and washroom and kitchen exist, yes, but other doors lead to nowhere. The parts of the walls Alucard wouldn't have been able to see from his bed shift about, because he hasn't decided what should be there yet. the world outside the windows is too bright to really see. In this state, it's easier to see it for what it is - a thing constructed to be an ideal. To make someone want to stay there. No doubt that one of those nothing-doors would prove to lead to a reading room if Alucard suggested a fondness for books. Or lead outside into a garden.
It's a little much to call it an illusion - it's real enough for all human purposes. But it's a thing built for Alucard. A thing built to keep him in. ]
You're- shit.
[ Trevor puts down a basket of plums as soon as he enters - no meat today. Two days ago he returned with a deer and they don't eat that quickly - and turns his attention to Alucard instead, concerned. He's awake and moving about. Should he be? Are humans even allowed to walk around if they're hurt? ]
Are your feet healed enough to be walking around like that?