[ Trevor just purses his lips, looks down at Sypha one last time, and then looks up, swallowing as he meets Alucard's gaze, so much softer than it had been before. ]
I'm sorry.
[ The sun starts to peek over the horizon as he says it, and the rabbit fairy pulls her brother into line before Alucard can say anything more, dusting him down and straightening his hair and pushing him around to correct his posture. She looks expectantly at the woman with the dogs, who makes her hounds sit properly but not without sighing as if it's a terrible nuisance to have to do so.
Leon Belmont arrives with the sun, as he has done for four hundred years. Unlike his children, he appears entirely human, save for that when part of him moves through the shadow of a tree branch that part disappears entirely. His expression is impassive as he looks over the fairy siblings, and his voice calm and soft. ]
Who is responsible?
[ Trevor steps forward, and Leon sighs. Carefully, he takes from from his belt a small, jeweled box and holds it out. A single moth leaves Trevor, settling itself into the box. Leon closes it.
And then he draws his sword and plunges it into Trevor's chest. The rabbit fairy looks away as moths fall away from her brother, each tumbling to the ground in flames. ]
[Alucard knows he can't be around for whatever happens next. The shadows are growing long, and that is a cue.
For the dead travel fast he murmurs, and in the shadows there is a deeper darkness. Shadows are what allow for the quick movement of vampires when they need it most, and while there is a toll for moving through these shadows on Alucard (he is only half dead), it is still the quickest way to go.
The shadows don't close behind him either. Not immediately, it is the curse of vampire hearing that means he still bears witness to what goes on. He shifts Sypha in his arms so that if she stirs, she won't turn back and see what is done to her boyfriend.
Shadows begin to close behind him as the scent of burnt moths begin to fill the air. Alucard doesn't know if Leon has come from speaking with Dracula or if this is pre-emptive. He's terrified either way.]
[ Leon moves with the sunlight, and it'll be another few minutes before the sun strikes the walls of Dracula's castle. When it does he is there, before the doors of the great building. He dusts the moth-ash from his hands. ]
[Dracula's castle sits high on the mountains this morning. Alucard is inside before sunlight reaches it, and when he is there, the air is downright oppressive. He has seen his father's poor moods from time to time, especially with the matter of Carmilla over the years.
But this is another level entirely, and he hates it. He hates it as the castle directs him to a safe guest bedroom (there are no windows.) He hates it as his mother tsks and takes Sypha from his arms to examine her properly, and Lisa mutters about the most irrational I've seen him.
That's saying a lot. And so for the time, Alucard takes the form of a wolf and lies down on the end of Sypha's bed. Better to rest now. He'll need it.
The castle does not welcome Leon Belmont. It does not welcome him as the doors open with a deadly silence. It does not welcome him as the grand hallway stands illuminated by the sun, shadows within casting deeper and deeper within. It tells him to get out as the doors close behind him. It snarls for him to stay gone as the hallways twist and turn and guide him to where Dracula has chosen to have his words.
There are no windows here. There is a fireplace with embers glowing in it. There is a long table beside the fireplace, and a chair at the head of each table. It is all by design. It is all to maximize distance, and within those choices there is a bare minimum of safety accounted for.
Dracula is already seated at his end of the table, cold and impervious and anger radiating off of him like a dark and extremely furious sun whose lands need such hate. It is only his eyes that regard the Belmont as he enters.]
[ The castle is dark, and Leon moves from flameless, cold torch to torch, vanishing into nothing in the shadows between them. He simply does not exist where the light does not touch, and has not in centuries. Has not, save for on that one night every seven years.
He knows the castle, no matter how little it cares for him. It is the angry, twisted child of one that he fought through centuries ago, new wonders fashioned from old parts. He follows the path that it gives him, requesting only a candle from it, so that he not vanish entirely.
(He relieves it, the candlestick is on a table a little further down the hallway. But it is offered grudgingly, the candlestick a beaten, tarnished thing that the castle seems to have pulled out from the darkest parts of itself just to offer the greatest insult that it can, and the candle burned so low already that his meeting with Dracula will not be a long one without an additional form of light. The castle wants him gone as soon as possible.)
He bows when he enters the room, moving to his own seat and placing the candle upon the table to illuminate him. Next to it, he places the small box. ]
I understand that my children have been hunting in your nights without your leave. [ He does not recognise territory in terms of geography anymore, only in terms of time. Wallachia means nothing to him, but sunset does. It was night, and not the night of all hallows, and so it was Dracula's territory. ] I imagine that you wish to discuss with me how this might be made right.
Remove that thing from the table. I do not want it.
[As an opening to settling an insult, it's most certaintly a choice. But there's something else in there, a very, very dull kindness that recompense not demand sacrifice of a child. An old law that only the two of them understand the reason for.
His eyes are as dark as the rest of the room.]
What is it about the current generation that has encouraged flaunting of written and unwritten rules, Belmont? One does not try to claim an ungiven night without incremental steps towards such boldness.
[He's starting low. Calm. Which is not a good thing at all. It means that Dracula is working up to a point.]
[ Leon nods, taking the box from Dracula’s sight. There’s a satisfaction in it, a note of hope. He has not forgotten. ]
I understand it to be desperation. Old powers, injured and lashing out, making their own claims upon the day and night alike. [ The church, he means. ] The young ones do not understand how best to deal with these things.
But then, you said rules, and not rule. You wish to enlighten me about these steps, do you not?
[There's a scant movement of Dracula's fingers, and the embers in the fireplace change. There are true flames now, the fuel they're devouring unclear and not worth asking about. The glow means that there is an hour of light at least.]
Very well. Your answer gives me no sense of how they are being taught to control these impulsive responses - some of which I realize are inherited traits. Or am I more correct in saying that they have learned nothing at all, based on past and recent events?
[He's also kind of angry about trying to kidnap his son. Maybe. Is he trying to parent shame? Abso-fucking-lutely.]
They learn the law, and they learn that there are consequences for breaking it. Would you ask more?
[ Leon nods in appreciation at the newly burning fire, but does not put out the candle. It was a gift, after all. From his ex’sweird castle child who has a new stepmom and loves her better. But a gift nonetheless. ]
[Not fine, but math is not something even Dracula can argue with. He's old enough to know better than to try again on that particular point.
The next part gets nothing more than an arched eyebrow. By now, Dracula's cheek is resting in the palm of his hand, and he seems nearly bored by all of this. But an arched eyebrow from Dracula is real surprise on another man's face.]
Very well. Along those lines, said hunt does not enter the immediate territory of Wallachia for seven cycles. You may pursue quarry elsewhere on the continent, save Carmilla.
[ Leon shakes his head. Fairies don’t do land borders. ] ]
You know that I have no authority over the queen. And you know that their kind care nothing for lines drawn upon maps by men. Even if I could grant your request, ‘Wallachia’ means nothing to them.
Your sons and daughters remain out of my lands then. The rest of their kind does not concern me.
[Theirs. Not yours. Because so far as Vlad Dracual Tepes can tell, Leon Belmont has remained so very human where his offspring have become more and more fae over the successive generations.]
I am more than happy to mark the borders for their edification.
For seven cycles, you, yours, and any other you name will not be our quarry. Should you maintain order and justice in your lands, we will have no reason to be here.
He lives under my authority and his care is my responsibility as well as duty. Anything that would dare to take him away without his say so or mine is worth addressing.
[Not directly engaging with the rest of it! Nope!!]
This was punishment from his own kind, for striking down a man of god. If you demand greater punishment, it will be done. But I would understand what the punishment is for.
[ He sighs. ]
I know nothing of the incident you are discussing. I heard only that the boy meant to pay a dowry. If he made an attempt to steal your son, I would hear about it.
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[ Trevor just purses his lips, looks down at Sypha one last time, and then looks up, swallowing as he meets Alucard's gaze, so much softer than it had been before. ]
I'm sorry.
[ The sun starts to peek over the horizon as he says it, and the rabbit fairy pulls her brother into line before Alucard can say anything more, dusting him down and straightening his hair and pushing him around to correct his posture. She looks expectantly at the woman with the dogs, who makes her hounds sit properly but not without sighing as if it's a terrible nuisance to have to do so.
Leon Belmont arrives with the sun, as he has done for four hundred years. Unlike his children, he appears entirely human, save for that when part of him moves through the shadow of a tree branch that part disappears entirely. His expression is impassive as he looks over the fairy siblings, and his voice calm and soft. ]
Who is responsible?
[ Trevor steps forward, and Leon sighs. Carefully, he takes from from his belt a small, jeweled box and holds it out. A single moth leaves Trevor, settling itself into the box. Leon closes it.
And then he draws his sword and plunges it into Trevor's chest. The rabbit fairy looks away as moths fall away from her brother, each tumbling to the ground in flames. ]
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For the dead travel fast he murmurs, and in the shadows there is a deeper darkness. Shadows are what allow for the quick movement of vampires when they need it most, and while there is a toll for moving through these shadows on Alucard (he is only half dead), it is still the quickest way to go.
The shadows don't close behind him either. Not immediately, it is the curse of vampire hearing that means he still bears witness to what goes on. He shifts Sypha in his arms so that if she stirs, she won't turn back and see what is done to her boyfriend.
Shadows begin to close behind him as the scent of burnt moths begin to fill the air. Alucard doesn't know if Leon has come from speaking with Dracula or if this is pre-emptive. He's terrified either way.]
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Mathias.
[ He does not knock, just says that one word. ]
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But this is another level entirely, and he hates it. He hates it as the castle directs him to a safe guest bedroom (there are no windows.) He hates it as his mother tsks and takes Sypha from his arms to examine her properly, and Lisa mutters about the most irrational I've seen him.
That's saying a lot. And so for the time, Alucard takes the form of a wolf and lies down on the end of Sypha's bed. Better to rest now. He'll need it.
The castle does not welcome Leon Belmont. It does not welcome him as the doors open with a deadly silence. It does not welcome him as the grand hallway stands illuminated by the sun, shadows within casting deeper and deeper within. It tells him to get out as the doors close behind him. It snarls for him to stay gone as the hallways twist and turn and guide him to where Dracula has chosen to have his words.
There are no windows here. There is a fireplace with embers glowing in it. There is a long table beside the fireplace, and a chair at the head of each table. It is all by design. It is all to maximize distance, and within those choices there is a bare minimum of safety accounted for.
Dracula is already seated at his end of the table, cold and impervious and anger radiating off of him like a dark and extremely furious sun whose lands need such hate. It is only his eyes that regard the Belmont as he enters.]
Belmont.
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He knows the castle, no matter how little it cares for him. It is the angry, twisted child of one that he fought through centuries ago, new wonders fashioned from old parts. He follows the path that it gives him, requesting only a candle from it, so that he not vanish entirely.
(He relieves it, the candlestick is on a table a little further down the hallway. But it is offered grudgingly, the candlestick a beaten, tarnished thing that the castle seems to have pulled out from the darkest parts of itself just to offer the greatest insult that it can, and the candle burned so low already that his meeting with Dracula will not be a long one without an additional form of light. The castle wants him gone as soon as possible.)
He bows when he enters the room, moving to his own seat and placing the candle upon the table to illuminate him. Next to it, he places the small box. ]
I understand that my children have been hunting in your nights without your leave. [ He does not recognise territory in terms of geography anymore, only in terms of time. Wallachia means nothing to him, but sunset does. It was night, and not the night of all hallows, and so it was Dracula's territory. ] I imagine that you wish to discuss with me how this might be made right.
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[As an opening to settling an insult, it's most certaintly a choice. But there's something else in there, a very, very dull kindness that recompense not demand sacrifice of a child. An old law that only the two of them understand the reason for.
His eyes are as dark as the rest of the room.]
What is it about the current generation that has encouraged flaunting of written and unwritten rules, Belmont? One does not try to claim an ungiven night without incremental steps towards such boldness.
[He's starting low. Calm. Which is not a good thing at all. It means that Dracula is working up to a point.]
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I understand it to be desperation. Old powers, injured and lashing out, making their own claims upon the day and night alike. [ The church, he means. ] The young ones do not understand how best to deal with these things.
But then, you said rules, and not rule. You wish to enlighten me about these steps, do you not?
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[The box is gone. Good. They're both better for that option being so very literally off the table.]
The matters of the church and other human things are not my concern. They never have been.
[It is a slight lie, because Dracula cares in so much as these things can pose a threat to his family. But he can protect them so easily.]
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[ He looks up at the candle. For the moment it is still burning without issue. ]
Your home has offered me limited time, Mathias. If you wish to hear a different answer from me, it would be prudent to ask a different question.
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Very well. Your answer gives me no sense of how they are being taught to control these impulsive responses - some of which I realize are inherited traits. Or am I more correct in saying that they have learned nothing at all, based on past and recent events?
[He's also kind of angry about trying to kidnap his son. Maybe. Is he trying to parent shame? Abso-fucking-lutely.]
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[ Leon nods in appreciation at the newly burning fire, but does not put out the candle. It was a gift, after all. From his ex’sweird castle child who has a new stepmom and loves her better. But a gift nonetheless. ]
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Those involved in tonight's actions are barred from hunting for fourteen years. One cycle for each year that has passed between the last hunt and now.
[The words are a little too calm. Daring Leon to contradict or to bargain.]
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[ Which. Dracula almost certainly knows and is planning for. Leon considers, and then looks up. ]
In return, I will also refrain from our great hunt.
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[Not fine, but math is not something even Dracula can argue with. He's old enough to know better than to try again on that particular point.
The next part gets nothing more than an arched eyebrow. By now, Dracula's cheek is resting in the palm of his hand, and he seems nearly bored by all of this. But an arched eyebrow from Dracula is real surprise on another man's face.]
Very well. Along those lines, said hunt does not enter the immediate territory of Wallachia for seven cycles. You may pursue quarry elsewhere on the continent, save Carmilla.
[That is Dracula's hunt alone.]
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[ Leon shakes his head. Fairies don’t do land borders. ] ]
You know that I have no authority over the queen. And you know that their kind care nothing for lines drawn upon maps by men. Even if I could grant your request, ‘Wallachia’ means nothing to them.
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[Theirs. Not yours. Because so far as Vlad Dracual Tepes can tell, Leon Belmont has remained so very human where his offspring have become more and more fae over the successive generations.]
I am more than happy to mark the borders for their edification.
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For seven cycles, you, yours, and any other you name will not be our quarry. Should you maintain order and justice in your lands, we will have no reason to be here.
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[His eyes are the only thing that move. The settle on Leon, and they s t a r e.]
What you describe is already in place. It instructs and imparts no new wisdom to those who have erred so foolishly time and again, Belmont.
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[ Leon looks back, rather than staring. He blinks without any concern for seeming weaker for it. ]
Time and again, you say. We are discussing compensation for one incident only.
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Is your son a possession of yours?
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[Not directly engaging with the rest of it! Nope!!]
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If not, then he is the insulted party. Not you. If he wishes to discuss punishment or compensation with me, I will listen.
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You also know that by default, any dealings with fae are political matters, Belmont.
[It's a perk of being king of the vampires.]
Or are you finding ways to avoid this because rendering that boy into a single moth was a preemptive measure to shield him from worse reprisals?
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[ He sighs. ]
I know nothing of the incident you are discussing. I heard only that the boy meant to pay a dowry. If he made an attempt to steal your son, I would hear about it.
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