[ This is- not the bathing room. His first instinct is to run. To run and gather up Sypha and run some more. A coffin and that much blood- it can't be anything good. But windows are rare here, and this one is uncovered. It's strange, to see the daylight, how the sun cuts through what has seemed until now like an eternal night.
This is an opportunity. If there's a vampire in there, then he just has to open the coffin up and let the sunlight hit them. They'll be gone without a sound, and until they're missed this part of the castle will be safer for it. If Sypha needs to rest a little longer, she'll be able to.
His mind made up, he grabs at the lid of the coffin. It's heavy, and it's smooth enough to be difficult to get a good grip on, but he slowly, slowly heaves it upward. ]
It's impossible for it not to be, for what's inside is a young man with all too perfect hair, his arms folded over his chest, and in one of his arm, a needle attached to tubing that must connect to the big glass things outside of the coffin.
Slashed across his chest is a nasty, ugly crag that is an all too fresh scar, healed but barely so. The depth must have been the problem, coupled with the length, and for all of that pain, there is an additional feature: leg irons (padded, but still), with no length attached to them. The vampire, such as it is, has been bolted against the coffin and--
--a pair of gold eyes flutter open, accompanied by a soft noise.]
Ugh.
[The upper part of the vampire's body starts to float. To strain against the irons, and it is at that moment that the coffin's lid reveals the scratch marks made within.]
[ Already, Trevor has a metal spike at the vampire's heart. He doesn't stab, not yet, but- ]
What the fuck?
[ The sunlight's definitely falling on him. On bare skin, even, and doing absolutely fucking nothing. He takes note of that, but also of the irons. Of the scar, of the grooves dug into the coffin by claws matching the shards stone under the vampire's nails. Someone's pissed Dracula off, haven't they? That could be good news for them, if he plays this right. ]
Call for reinforcements, and I stab down. [ He forces his voice steady. ] Otherwise, my friend and I need a guide. Give your word to help us find our way through the castle, and I'll let you out.
[What the fuck indeed. Alucard's eyes settle on Trevor, staring at the man with confusion and anger in his eyes. There are humans in his father's castle, and they're alive so far. It's a turn of events that he didn't anticipate, but he doesn't trust it either.
Not with a stake over his heart. Not without knowing the situation in full.]
[ He doesn't move the stake. Not until he knows that Alucard isn't going to bring the entire population of the castle here. Even talking like this seems a risky move, with Sypha in her current state. But they're not doing so brilliantly here that he can afford to let an opportunity like this pass. ]
1476. It's- shit. [ They've been here in the castle just under a week, probably. It feels that long, anyway. ] February? Probably.
The dhampir takes a scant moment to collect himself, because that's the only time he can afford to give the first year of his mother's murder the acknowledgement it deserves. A year in a damn coffin, healing and then being held against his will. A year.
His eyes return to Trevor, keen and narrow and trying to divine if this is a true temporary ally, or some other new problem that will only distract him from doing the grim work that must be done.]
You've brought yourself and another mortal into Dracula's castle. Why?
[ He draws the stake back. Not entirely, but a little. Far enough that he can reach up to pull the cloak back from over his family crest. ]
Only one reason Belmonts ever seek out Dracula, isn't there?
[ Enough questions. He tests the weight of the coffin's lid - too fucking heavy, but he can just about move it again if he needs to. ] I can get you out, or I can close your box again and pretend this shit never happened. Your choice.
[ There's also the third option, involving the stake, but he's pretty sure that one goes without saying. ]
Alucard heard the surname a few times growing up. People to be careful and aware of. People to stay away from, and so Alucard had. It was easy when you grew up away from most of the world. He'd contest Trevor's claims even now - anyone can wear a crest, after all - but there's a part of him that knows it all to be true.
Hunter. Scholar. Soldier. This Belmont mentioned that there was another in addition to himself. That must be the Scholar, and so...
...and so Alucard knows that this betrayal is just another in a series of betrayals against his father. That this is not only patricide, by allyship with an ancient foe that has tried to take the life of Vlad Dracula Tepes dozens of times over. It hurts.
The Belmont doesn't get to know that. He only gets cold, calm, golden eyes staring at him.]
[ He kneels, examining the irons. It's- odd, that they would be padded. All of this is odd. The vampire's been held here against his will, clearly, but at least a token effort has been made to keep him - if not comfortable in imprisonment, at least less uncomfortable than he could have been. He uses the metal stake to break the stone around the bolts and it's louder and messier than he'd have hoped, but it works.
The massive containers of blood as as much of a relief as massive containers of blood could ever be. Hopefully, they'll throw off the scent of his and Sypha's own blood. But still, cleaning that blood up is probably a priority. Time to find out if Alucard really does intend to guide them. ]
Water, first. Clean water. My partner's hurt, and she's not going any deeper into the castle while she still reeks of blood.
[ The only time Trevor Belmont is going to advocate for cleaning wounds: when the smell of blood might alert vampires to your presence. ]
[Before Alucard does anything else, he turns his attention to the needle still in his vein. Before he removes it, his eyes look around his immediate surroundings, and it is by fortune that a little stopper has been left in the coffin with him. He takes that in hand first before he removes the needle, and then once it's out, the stopper is immediately placed atop it.
There. No blood spillage.]
There is a bathroom a few more doors down. We'll begin there.
[The next part comes off as dramatic, with Alucard carefully floating up in a steady line, before uprighting himself and coming to put both of his feet on the ground. In truth, it's a way for him to test muscular atrophy and determine if he can easily walk on his own two legs, or if he'll need time to recover.
He doesn't.
So he takes the sword and the coat that are in the coffin, arms himself, then tugs the coat on.]
This way.
[It's easy to treat this all casually as he walks down the corridor, past three more doors before hanging a right into a bathroom that's all clean tile and simple lines.]
Hard to tell with knocks to the head. Hoping she'll be up and about in a few hours. If not-
[ -he just cuts off, because he doesn't really know what to do if not. Everything in him says to call off this whole mad business and get her somewhere safe and then try again alone, like he should have done in the first place. There was a window, and they didn't look too far from the ground. He could climb down with her. He'd just have to hope that the castle doesn't just disappear again once he's outside it. ]
-If not, we get to see what happens if someone tries to throw fireballs around with a concussion. It'll be entertaining, if nothing else.
[ He retreats into bravado as he takes a washbowl and fills it with hot water. He's figured out how to open the veins by now, at least, and how some of them are hot and some are cold. ]
[Trevor may be filling the washbin with water, but it's Alucard who goes to the small linen closet in the corner and pulls out a little wooden box. It's a first aid kit, one of several squirreled away in the house because it's so damn big and his mother refused to hike for miles during an emergency.
He holds the chest close to him, eyes never quite leaving Trevor.]
That sounds like a bad idea at best, and a quick way to be captured at worst, if not outright killed.
[They shouldn't be here. None of them should. He's quiet as he heads to the door, then stops to wait for Trevor.]
Oh, it’s a shitty idea. Just one with a better chance of success than getting out of here alive and then finding our way back.
[ He looks at the box with some suspicion, and grits his teeth at the idea of leaving - turning his back to Alucard. When he does set off it’s with an awkward side step, trying to watch the vampire and watch where he’s going at once. ]
There’s a bedroom a little way down here, I left her there.
[ If it wasn’t obvious where Trevor is referring to, it becomes obvious before long. Sure enough, there’s a speaker in Alucard’s bed. A speaker sleeping peacefully, the very picture of contentment aside from a nasty bruise on one side of her head. There’s a shallow cut at its centre, as if her head was struck against the edge of something, weeping blood slowly. ]
[Through there, the Belmont says, and all of Alucard deflates. His room. His old room, the one his parents insisted that they keep in tact because they had done so much work in putting it together and because well, Alucard still used that drafting table from time to time.
There's no time for self pity though, and Alucard forces the emotional gut punch of the whole thing aside. There's a young...woman? Man? Woman, the Belmont said her, curled around his wolf, and the headwound looks cosmetically bad. He's quick to kneel down beside her, then place the box down next to him.
The Belmont's wary. So Alucard is quick to explain what he's doing as he opens the chest.]
I'm going to apply a little bit of alcohol on the cloth to prevent the wound from being infected. After that, I'm going to want to examine how deep it is, in case there is a need for stitches. If there is, I'll do that work. If there isn't, I'll simply wash the wound out, apply the alcohol again, and then see to your companion's bandages.
[ He doesn't like it. Sypha's bleeding, and he really shouldn't let a vampire anywhere near her in that state. If Alucard hadn't very clearly been well fed before this, he'd be separating them already. ]
Fine. Get the wound drunk. [ That's what applying alcohol does, right? It sounds- well, it sounds like she'll be in less pain that way, at least. ] But one wrong fucking move, and you go back in the vampire box.
[He doesn't try and correct the Belmont's bad science or assumptions. He only does the work as he said he would, quiet and calculated as he goes about it. There is a point where he leans in to get a better sense of the wound's depth, but Alucard is smart. He doesn't linger. He only makes one announcement:]
No stitches needed.
[And that's all there is. The wound is dressed and bandaged, and Alucard then packs the kit up. He even backs up to show the Belmont that he's done, not as a sign of trust but to indicate that if Trevor has doubts, he can inspect Alucard's handiwork.[
[ The tension in him grows as Alucard works. No stitches, at least. He's probably end up either staking the vampire of giving himself a heart attack if he had to deal with watching as Alucard stabbed a needle into her. His shoulders sink in relief when the vampire finally backs away, and he moves over to Sypha. Not to examine Alucard's work - he doesn't understand Alucard's work. But to look her over and sigh, coiling a strand of her hair around one finger.
There's been a vampire hanging over her for the last few minutes, and she hasn't even stirred. He sighs at that, the energy leaving his body entirely as he sinks to the ground, leaning back against the bed. ]
If her mind's not right when she wakes up, get her out of the castle. There's a window, you can float. Seems the best way to get her to safety.
You realize that requires a detailed assessment, not just...hearing a few words out of her mouth, yes?
[Alucard's back rests on the wall, his hand ghosting over the drafting table. This Belmont's Speaker companion must mean an awful lot if he's this protective. The way his fingers curl in his hair, it's familiar. Loving.
A horrible noise almost escapes Alucard's throat at that. Not the time. Not the place. Not the person to do it in front of.]
She won't protest at your death and being foisted off on some stranger?
I've yet to find anything she doesn't protest at. If she can't walk properly and aim right, she can't be here. She's just going to get [ herself killed. ] in the way.
[ He shakes his head. ]
And if she weren't in the habit of foisting herself off onto strangers, she wouldn't even be here.
[ He leans his head back. He’s not had a chance at rest in the last few days, and now all of a sudden he can do nothing but. He can’t let his guard down entirely, not with a vampire around, but- god, even just sitting for a moment is a luxury. ]
You really managed to piss off the boss, didn’t you? Never heard of him going out of his way to keep someone alive. Just how badly did you fuck up?
[He repeats the name once and then....Trevor opens his mouth.
That finally gets Alucard to open his eyes, and they're glaring at Trevor with a barely concealed fury.]
I attempted to talk sense into my father the minute after he declared war on humanity, but he would hear no sense and thought it wise to strike me down instead. I can only assume that somewhere in his mind, he remembered that I am the only living legacy of my mother, and has tried to keep that fact alive.
[ If he's taken note of Alucard's rage, he's too exhausted to care. He's heard about Lisa and her fate from the speakers and- well, he has thoughts on that shit but so far he's been doing an excellent job of pretending he doesn't. He continues to do this.
He suddenly realises the significance of there being a child's bedroom in this place, though, of where they are. Of the doll Sypha's curled herself up around. ]
Well. Shit. [ That's all the acknowledgement he's capable of of the emotional side of that, but he looks up, remembering the nasty fucking scar. It looks- mostly closed, at least. ] Any danger of that opening up and you dying on us out of nowhere?
[Alucard's voice is steadier than he feels. There's a quiet moment where he walks to the door of the bedroom, wanting as much space from the bedroom as possible. He won't ask to move Sypha, she's injured and clearly his old wolf friend is providing some comfort, but he can try and extract himself from the place as much as possible.]
I do not believe so. I have been at rest for a year now. It's as healed as it will ever be.
[ He pushes himself up, heading to the door of the room. There's nothing in here that he can sense. If the vampire wants out they can keep watch just as well from outside. ]
Good to know you're not going to keel over. [ He heads out of the room, flopping down against the wall outside instead. It's time to talk strategy. ] We need to reach the castle's engines. I meant to follow the veins of lightning [ ...the wiring. ] but they've been hidden inside the walls since my ancestors last came here.
[ Dracula was absolutely the kind of dramatic fuck he had bare wires sparking all over the place until he had to childproof the castle. ]
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This is an opportunity. If there's a vampire in there, then he just has to open the coffin up and let the sunlight hit them. They'll be gone without a sound, and until they're missed this part of the castle will be safer for it. If Sypha needs to rest a little longer, she'll be able to.
His mind made up, he grabs at the lid of the coffin. It's heavy, and it's smooth enough to be difficult to get a good grip on, but he slowly, slowly heaves it upward. ]
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It's impossible for it not to be, for what's inside is a young man with all too perfect hair, his arms folded over his chest, and in one of his arm, a needle attached to tubing that must connect to the big glass things outside of the coffin.
Slashed across his chest is a nasty, ugly crag that is an all too fresh scar, healed but barely so. The depth must have been the problem, coupled with the length, and for all of that pain, there is an additional feature: leg irons (padded, but still), with no length attached to them. The vampire, such as it is, has been bolted against the coffin and--
--a pair of gold eyes flutter open, accompanied by a soft noise.]
Ugh.
[The upper part of the vampire's body starts to float. To strain against the irons, and it is at that moment that the coffin's lid reveals the scratch marks made within.]
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What the fuck?
[ The sunlight's definitely falling on him. On bare skin, even, and doing absolutely fucking nothing. He takes note of that, but also of the irons. Of the scar, of the grooves dug into the coffin by claws matching the shards stone under the vampire's nails. Someone's pissed Dracula off, haven't they? That could be good news for them, if he plays this right. ]
Call for reinforcements, and I stab down. [ He forces his voice steady. ] Otherwise, my friend and I need a guide. Give your word to help us find our way through the castle, and I'll let you out.
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Not with a stake over his heart. Not without knowing the situation in full.]
Tell me when it is first.
worst wakeup ever
1476. It's- shit. [ They've been here in the castle just under a week, probably. It feels that long, anyway. ] February? Probably.
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The dhampir takes a scant moment to collect himself, because that's the only time he can afford to give the first year of his mother's murder the acknowledgement it deserves. A year in a damn coffin, healing and then being held against his will. A year.
His eyes return to Trevor, keen and narrow and trying to divine if this is a true temporary ally, or some other new problem that will only distract him from doing the grim work that must be done.]
You've brought yourself and another mortal into Dracula's castle. Why?
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Only one reason Belmonts ever seek out Dracula, isn't there?
[ Enough questions. He tests the weight of the coffin's lid - too fucking heavy, but he can just about move it again if he needs to. ] I can get you out, or I can close your box again and pretend this shit never happened. Your choice.
[ There's also the third option, involving the stake, but he's pretty sure that one goes without saying. ]
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Alucard heard the surname a few times growing up. People to be careful and aware of. People to stay away from, and so Alucard had. It was easy when you grew up away from most of the world. He'd contest Trevor's claims even now - anyone can wear a crest, after all - but there's a part of him that knows it all to be true.
Hunter. Scholar. Soldier. This Belmont mentioned that there was another in addition to himself. That must be the Scholar, and so...
...and so Alucard knows that this betrayal is just another in a series of betrayals against his father. That this is not only patricide, by allyship with an ancient foe that has tried to take the life of Vlad Dracula Tepes dozens of times over. It hurts.
The Belmont doesn't get to know that. He only gets cold, calm, golden eyes staring at him.]
We have an agreement.
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[ He kneels, examining the irons. It's- odd, that they would be padded. All of this is odd. The vampire's been held here against his will, clearly, but at least a token effort has been made to keep him - if not comfortable in imprisonment, at least less uncomfortable than he could have been. He uses the metal stake to break the stone around the bolts and it's louder and messier than he'd have hoped, but it works.
The massive containers of blood as as much of a relief as massive containers of blood could ever be. Hopefully, they'll throw off the scent of his and Sypha's own blood. But still, cleaning that blood up is probably a priority. Time to find out if Alucard really does intend to guide them. ]
Water, first. Clean water. My partner's hurt, and she's not going any deeper into the castle while she still reeks of blood.
[ The only time Trevor Belmont is going to advocate for cleaning wounds: when the smell of blood might alert vampires to your presence. ]
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There. No blood spillage.]
There is a bathroom a few more doors down. We'll begin there.
[The next part comes off as dramatic, with Alucard carefully floating up in a steady line, before uprighting himself and coming to put both of his feet on the ground. In truth, it's a way for him to test muscular atrophy and determine if he can easily walk on his own two legs, or if he'll need time to recover.
He doesn't.
So he takes the sword and the coat that are in the coffin, arms himself, then tugs the coat on.]
This way.
[It's easy to treat this all casually as he walks down the corridor, past three more doors before hanging a right into a bathroom that's all clean tile and simple lines.]
How injured is your associate?
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[ -he just cuts off, because he doesn't really know what to do if not. Everything in him says to call off this whole mad business and get her somewhere safe and then try again alone, like he should have done in the first place. There was a window, and they didn't look too far from the ground. He could climb down with her. He'd just have to hope that the castle doesn't just disappear again once he's outside it. ]
-If not, we get to see what happens if someone tries to throw fireballs around with a concussion. It'll be entertaining, if nothing else.
[ He retreats into bravado as he takes a washbowl and fills it with hot water. He's figured out how to open the veins by now, at least, and how some of them are hot and some are cold. ]
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He holds the chest close to him, eyes never quite leaving Trevor.]
That sounds like a bad idea at best, and a quick way to be captured at worst, if not outright killed.
[They shouldn't be here. None of them should. He's quiet as he heads to the door, then stops to wait for Trevor.]
You'll have to lead me to which room she's in.
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[ He looks at the box with some suspicion, and grits his teeth at the idea of leaving - turning his back to Alucard. When he does set off it’s with an awkward side step, trying to watch the vampire and watch where he’s going at once. ]
There’s a bedroom a little way down here, I left her there.
[ If it wasn’t obvious where Trevor is referring to, it becomes obvious before long. Sure enough, there’s a speaker in Alucard’s bed. A speaker sleeping peacefully, the very picture of contentment aside from a nasty bruise on one side of her head. There’s a shallow cut at its centre, as if her head was struck against the edge of something, weeping blood slowly. ]
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There's no time for self pity though, and Alucard forces the emotional gut punch of the whole thing aside. There's a young...woman? Man? Woman, the Belmont said her, curled around his wolf, and the headwound looks cosmetically bad. He's quick to kneel down beside her, then place the box down next to him.
The Belmont's wary. So Alucard is quick to explain what he's doing as he opens the chest.]
I'm going to apply a little bit of alcohol on the cloth to prevent the wound from being infected. After that, I'm going to want to examine how deep it is, in case there is a need for stitches. If there is, I'll do that work. If there isn't, I'll simply wash the wound out, apply the alcohol again, and then see to your companion's bandages.
Is that acceptable?
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[ He doesn't like it. Sypha's bleeding, and he really shouldn't let a vampire anywhere near her in that state. If Alucard hadn't very clearly been well fed before this, he'd be separating them already. ]
Fine. Get the wound drunk. [ That's what applying alcohol does, right? It sounds- well, it sounds like she'll be in less pain that way, at least. ] But one wrong fucking move, and you go back in the vampire box.
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[He doesn't try and correct the Belmont's bad science or assumptions. He only does the work as he said he would, quiet and calculated as he goes about it. There is a point where he leans in to get a better sense of the wound's depth, but Alucard is smart. He doesn't linger. He only makes one announcement:]
No stitches needed.
[And that's all there is. The wound is dressed and bandaged, and Alucard then packs the kit up. He even backs up to show the Belmont that he's done, not as a sign of trust but to indicate that if Trevor has doubts, he can inspect Alucard's handiwork.[
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There's been a vampire hanging over her for the last few minutes, and she hasn't even stirred. He sighs at that, the energy leaving his body entirely as he sinks to the ground, leaning back against the bed. ]
If her mind's not right when she wakes up, get her out of the castle. There's a window, you can float. Seems the best way to get her to safety.
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[Alucard's back rests on the wall, his hand ghosting over the drafting table. This Belmont's Speaker companion must mean an awful lot if he's this protective. The way his fingers curl in his hair, it's familiar. Loving.
A horrible noise almost escapes Alucard's throat at that. Not the time. Not the place. Not the person to do it in front of.]
She won't protest at your death and being foisted off on some stranger?
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[ He shakes his head. ]
And if she weren't in the habit of foisting herself off onto strangers, she wouldn't even be here.
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Very well, Belmont. And if she yells at me, I will blame you entirely. Does she have a name?
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[ He leans his head back. He’s not had a chance at rest in the last few days, and now all of a sudden he can do nothing but. He can’t let his guard down entirely, not with a vampire around, but- god, even just sitting for a moment is a luxury. ]
You really managed to piss off the boss, didn’t you? Never heard of him going out of his way to keep someone alive. Just how badly did you fuck up?
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[He repeats the name once and then....Trevor opens his mouth.
That finally gets Alucard to open his eyes, and they're glaring at Trevor with a barely concealed fury.]
I attempted to talk sense into my father the minute after he declared war on humanity, but he would hear no sense and thought it wise to strike me down instead. I can only assume that somewhere in his mind, he remembered that I am the only living legacy of my mother, and has tried to keep that fact alive.
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[ If he's taken note of Alucard's rage, he's too exhausted to care. He's heard about Lisa and her fate from the speakers and- well, he has thoughts on that shit but so far he's been doing an excellent job of pretending he doesn't. He continues to do this.
He suddenly realises the significance of there being a child's bedroom in this place, though, of where they are. Of the doll Sypha's curled herself up around. ]
Well. Shit. [ That's all the acknowledgement he's capable of of the emotional side of that, but he looks up, remembering the nasty fucking scar. It looks- mostly closed, at least. ] Any danger of that opening up and you dying on us out of nowhere?
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[Alucard's voice is steadier than he feels. There's a quiet moment where he walks to the door of the bedroom, wanting as much space from the bedroom as possible. He won't ask to move Sypha, she's injured and clearly his old wolf friend is providing some comfort, but he can try and extract himself from the place as much as possible.]
I do not believe so. I have been at rest for a year now. It's as healed as it will ever be.
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[ He pushes himself up, heading to the door of the room. There's nothing in here that he can sense. If the vampire wants out they can keep watch just as well from outside. ]
Good to know you're not going to keel over. [ He heads out of the room, flopping down against the wall outside instead. It's time to talk strategy. ] We need to reach the castle's engines. I meant to follow the veins of lightning [ ...the wiring. ] but they've been hidden inside the walls since my ancestors last came here.
[ Dracula was absolutely the kind of dramatic fuck he had bare wires sparking all over the place until he had to childproof the castle. ]
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