[Alucard nods, and murmurs the right words. For the dead travel fast.
And so the dark tunnel appears, the one that lets the undead move as they please. An outpost of the netherworld, a signifier of the undead's liminal space. He can travel it in short bursts before being worn tired. For anything else, it's a true trial.
He walks in with Trevor's hand in his, immediately weighted down by the place's natural gravity. It's a sense that only intensifies the further in they go, and Alucard's eyes remain ever ahead. But he has a companion, and he knows that this is not easy.]
If you need me to stop, say so. We can exit and wait until you have energy again.
[ He repeats it, following. But it doesn't take long before he starts to stumble, before his footsteps become unsteady and moths begin to fall to the ground. Even he's surprised by how quickly he tires. He thought he'd recovered more than this. ]
I mustn't let go.
[ This time it sounds more shaky, more desperate, and it's accompanied by a squeeze of Alucard's hand. That would be a request to pause. ]
[They'll stop. They're three quarters of the way there already, and so Alucard murmurs the words that ends the tunnel.
They're in the mountains now, cold and dark but hundreds of miles from the Silk Merchant and his horrible market. A quiet breeze blows through, and on it is the scent of wild flowers. Alucard looks to Trevor, frowning.]
[ He does as he's told, lowering himself to sit on the ground, but doesn't let go of Alucard's hand as he does. He pokes at a moth on the ground with his free hand, but it doesn't respond. ]
Where are we going?
[ He probably should have asked that before, but Alucard offered his hand, and that was more important. ]
[Alucard squeezes Trevor's hand gently. It hasn't escaped the vampire's notice that the fae is yet to let go. It also hasn't escaped him what a real risk this could be, how it might simply earn his father's anger. But his mother will be there, and prevail upon her husband probably.
He breathes out.]
If there's a way to set this to rights, it'll be there.
[ That's terrifying. He holds Alucard's hand tighter. He doesn't know why he even knows of Dracula - his master certainly never told him of him - but he knows. ]
I don't- [ He doesn't know. There is so, so much he doesn't know. But- he must have hunted once, before the days became short. ] -I think I can ride. I don't remember.
[And suddenly, Alucard isn't there. He's a wolf, one who lets out a long, deep howl that shatters the night sky. He remains taught and tense for a moment and--
a bellowing noise responds. Dracula, acknowledging his son.
Alucard's wolf form softens, and tail wags in Trevor's direction.
[ He climbs atop Alucard’s back, fingers curling in his fur. Yes. He knows this, even if his mind doesn’t recall it. This is who he is. He can ride. That’s comfort, even with Dracula’s howl still echoing through the night.
He lowers himself, coiling his arms around Alucard’s neck and burying his face in fur. Theoretically, it means that Alucard can move faster safely. It’s just also comforting. ]
[In that howl, Alucard had communicated that something happened. His father said that he would be waiting at the door. And so Alucard speeds along once he feels that Trevor can hold on properly.
He spends a few minutes at a mostly human pace. Then? Then he moves at the speed of his father's people, paws thundering up and up and up the mountain paths, until up does become down and into a valley, home to a small community best known for not much at all save it's doctor. Lupu is a long way away from here, as is most of Wallachia. Here was a compromise, for Lisa would not leave humanity entirely, but Dracula could not risk her among Wallachia's people.
And indeed, Dracula is waiting. He is stood on the doorstep of the home the three of them share, the largest in the village because it accommodates Lisa's clinic on the first floor. Or so they all say, but it is still a private home and all other vampires must be granted permission to cross the threshold.
He looms as his son, a wolf, approaches with--
--a Belmont.
A noise escapes Dracula that is already furious, but then? Then he realizes the spells tracked over Trevor's body, and suddenly so much comes into focus.]
Bring him around back, Adrian.
[Around back is a smaller house. Just two rooms, a bed area and a preparation area. A quarantine zone, or as close to one as possible.
[ Adrian. Adrian. He turns the name over in his head, even as Dracula’s presence chokes all else from his mind. A pretty name. He likes it. Adrian. ]
Adrian.
[ He repeats it softly as he lowers himself from Alucard’s back, returning to the ground. His hands remain in Alucard’s fur, and he doesn’t seem to have any plans to let go. ]
[Dracula retreats inside the house. Alucard can hear his mother's voice, and the two begin a long argument. He moves Trevor along, past the side of the house and into the little quarantine, pausing just long enough to nudge the door open with his nose.
One has to pass through the preparation area first, although right now it is perfectly empty. Just a counter, spaces marked out for tools, and a little wood burning stove to heat both rooms. Through there? A real bed, made of feathers, although there are no sheets upon it for now. Alucard nuzzles against Trevor's hand, before his nose points to the bed.]
[....God. Alucard understands this much now, and he can't imagine the life this fae leads. Completely without any memory save for a miserable existence. It could be an eternal sentence, if it isn't mitigated.
He sighs, patting the top of Trevor's hand tenderly.]
I'll wait for you to have your name back upon your lips then.
[There's quiet from Alucard, but that's broken by the reappearance of Dracula within the room. His disapproval still rolls off of his person, but Alucard knows the look on his father's face. That anger has been temporarily abated.]
[ He looks down at his hand as Alucard pats. It's- nice. Distantly, he can feel more orders being scrawled over the pages of his wings. Demands to return. Demands to bring the vampire back to his master, let him do the bartering. Other things, too. Idiot. Useless. An instruction to suffer that sends fire through his veins.
But Alucard's hand is on his, soft and tender, and he hasn't forgotten yet. He can't follow any other orders, not until the first one is finished or cancelled out, and Alucard's hand is on his. Nothing else is quite as important as that.
Which makes Dracula's instruction perhaps even more terrifying than his presence. He doesn't want Alucard to leave. Alucard is important. He raises his hand, coiling his fingers around Alucard's wrist, and looks up at Dracula. ]
[Alucard feels heat from his side of things too, but that is the cold fury of Dracula as Trevor fails to comply. But that look of utter disapproval moves from Alucard to Trevor himself, and well.
He gestures towards Trevors wings.]
Let me confirm a single suspicion, Belmont.
[That Trevor is receiving orders even now. What those orders were in the first place.
Belmont though. Alucard lets out a worried noise, because he's heard what that family has attempted to do to his father. Shit. Shit he's in trouble.]
[ There's a question in that. Is that my name? He doesn't wait for an answer, because he understand what Dracula is asking. He's not going to let go of Alucard's hand, but he's not going to be difficult in other ways. The remains of his wings - torn off rather than cut with iron to allow them to grow back and provide more paper to use for orders. - flick a little as he tries to read what's written on the rest of them miles away. ]
Return. Useless. Idiot. Suffer. Bring the vampire. Bring the vampire. Hurt. Useless. Bring me the vampire.
[ He repeats the commands as if he were reciting a list of ingredients, then makes a sound of frustration, as if that series of commands was just somewhat annoying. ]
I can't bring the vampire. He hasn't forgotten yet. It was written first, I have to do that first.
[Dracula's face curls into something wicked and truly furious, the fire in his eyes falling on Trevor. But it's not Trevor he's looking at, not really. He is looking through the Belmont, determinining the precise location of a man stupid enough to entertain the thought of kidnapping Dracula's son.
Alucard knows the look on his father's face, but he doesn't do much more than shudder. He can't. He knows his father, and if there is one thing his father will never compromise on, it is the safety of the family.
All he says is:]
It is five hours to daylight.
I am aware.
[The vampire becomes mist, leaving the two alone. He needed only a moment to locate the Silk Merchant. He will only need a more to condemn the man properly.]
Return. [ Trevor continues listing off the orders, even in Dracula's absence - he's angry. Trevor doesn't like it when people are angry. Best not to test him. ] Return here. Come back. Stop him. Stop him. Please.
[ And then the writing stops, and Trevor falls quiet. He grips Alucard's hand tighter. He can't know what's happened, but they can both suspect.
In among the pieces of wing being used to deliver orders and the silk and the little bottles of iron ink, alongside the chains and the scold's bridle is a single moth, both of its wings pinned into a piece of cork. The Unicorn strains against its own bonds as Dracula gets close to it, making ANGRY HORSE NOISES at him. It's probably important. ]
[Alucard has always known that the side of the father he's grown up with is only one part of him. Dracula is still the thing of legend and fear for a great many people, and watching the Silk Merchant's death is a cold, terrifying remidner of that fact. More than once, he shudders, and he has to let go of Trevor's hand once in order to focus himself.
But as for Dracula. The Merchant is dead. He swipes the restraints of the unicorn away without a second's thought, hardly concerned about the thing or it's fate. It has done it's service, drawing his attention to the pinned moth.
He knows what it is. It is a Belmont's focus, and yet...there's something far deeper afoot, and there has always been one tenous, fragile agreement between himself and Leon.
The moth's pins are removed. Dracula does nothing more.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
And so the dark tunnel appears, the one that lets the undead move as they please. An outpost of the netherworld, a signifier of the undead's liminal space. He can travel it in short bursts before being worn tired. For anything else, it's a true trial.
He walks in with Trevor's hand in his, immediately weighted down by the place's natural gravity. It's a sense that only intensifies the further in they go, and Alucard's eyes remain ever ahead. But he has a companion, and he knows that this is not easy.]
If you need me to stop, say so. We can exit and wait until you have energy again.
no subject
[ He repeats it, following. But it doesn't take long before he starts to stumble, before his footsteps become unsteady and moths begin to fall to the ground. Even he's surprised by how quickly he tires. He thought he'd recovered more than this. ]
I mustn't let go.
[ This time it sounds more shaky, more desperate, and it's accompanied by a squeeze of Alucard's hand. That would be a request to pause. ]
no subject
They're in the mountains now, cold and dark but hundreds of miles from the Silk Merchant and his horrible market. A quiet breeze blows through, and on it is the scent of wild flowers. Alucard looks to Trevor, frowning.]
Sit down, you'll fall over if you don't.
no subject
Where are we going?
[ He probably should have asked that before, but Alucard offered his hand, and that was more important. ]
no subject
[Alucard squeezes Trevor's hand gently. It hasn't escaped the vampire's notice that the fae is yet to let go. It also hasn't escaped him what a real risk this could be, how it might simply earn his father's anger. But his mother will be there, and prevail upon her husband probably.
He breathes out.]
If there's a way to set this to rights, it'll be there.
no subject
My master will search for me. I'm- [ his tone is just a few emotional notes off if he were saying he was loved. ] -an investment.
no subject
[Alucard's eyes go to the mountains.]
My village is on the other side of this place. How good are you at riding?
no subject
[ That's terrifying. He holds Alucard's hand tighter. He doesn't know why he even knows of Dracula - his master certainly never told him of him - but he knows. ]
I don't- [ He doesn't know. There is so, so much he doesn't know. But- he must have hunted once, before the days became short. ] -I think I can ride. I don't remember.
no subject
no subject
Home.
no subject
[And suddenly, Alucard isn't there. He's a wolf, one who lets out a long, deep howl that shatters the night sky. He remains taught and tense for a moment and--
a bellowing noise responds. Dracula, acknowledging his son.
Alucard's wolf form softens, and tail wags in Trevor's direction.
Let's go!]
no subject
He lowers himself, coiling his arms around Alucard’s neck and burying his face in fur. Theoretically, it means that Alucard can move faster safely. It’s just also comforting. ]
no subject
He spends a few minutes at a mostly human pace. Then? Then he moves at the speed of his father's people, paws thundering up and up and up the mountain paths, until up does become down and into a valley, home to a small community best known for not much at all save it's doctor. Lupu is a long way away from here, as is most of Wallachia. Here was a compromise, for Lisa would not leave humanity entirely, but Dracula could not risk her among Wallachia's people.
And indeed, Dracula is waiting. He is stood on the doorstep of the home the three of them share, the largest in the village because it accommodates Lisa's clinic on the first floor. Or so they all say, but it is still a private home and all other vampires must be granted permission to cross the threshold.
He looms as his son, a wolf, approaches with--
--a Belmont.
A noise escapes Dracula that is already furious, but then? Then he realizes the spells tracked over Trevor's body, and suddenly so much comes into focus.]
Bring him around back, Adrian.
[Around back is a smaller house. Just two rooms, a bed area and a preparation area. A quarantine zone, or as close to one as possible.
no subject
Adrian.
[ He repeats it softly as he lowers himself from Alucard’s back, returning to the ground. His hands remain in Alucard’s fur, and he doesn’t seem to have any plans to let go. ]
no subject
One has to pass through the preparation area first, although right now it is perfectly empty. Just a counter, spaces marked out for tools, and a little wood burning stove to heat both rooms. Through there? A real bed, made of feathers, although there are no sheets upon it for now. Alucard nuzzles against Trevor's hand, before his nose points to the bed.]
no subject
Does he want to kill me?
[ He’s not sure if that possibility frightens him or not. ]
He ought to go to my master, if he does. I’ll just come back unless he kills the last piece.
no subject
You....what is your surname?
no subject
[ He sits on the bed once Alucard does, once he knows it’s allowed. ]
My master calls me his Weaver, because I make the silk. Is that good enough?
no subject
He sighs, patting the top of Trevor's hand tenderly.]
I'll wait for you to have your name back upon your lips then.
[There's quiet from Alucard, but that's broken by the reappearance of Dracula within the room. His disapproval still rolls off of his person, but Alucard knows the look on his father's face. That anger has been temporarily abated.]
Go inside. I need to speak with the fae alone.
no subject
But Alucard's hand is on his, soft and tender, and he hasn't forgotten yet. He can't follow any other orders, not until the first one is finished or cancelled out, and Alucard's hand is on his. Nothing else is quite as important as that.
Which makes Dracula's instruction perhaps even more terrifying than his presence. He doesn't want Alucard to leave. Alucard is important. He raises his hand, coiling his fingers around Alucard's wrist, and looks up at Dracula. ]
I mustn't let go.
no subject
He gestures towards Trevors wings.]
Let me confirm a single suspicion, Belmont.
[That Trevor is receiving orders even now. What those orders were in the first place.
Belmont though. Alucard lets out a worried noise, because he's heard what that family has attempted to do to his father. Shit. Shit he's in trouble.]
no subject
[ There's a question in that. Is that my name? He doesn't wait for an answer, because he understand what Dracula is asking. He's not going to let go of Alucard's hand, but he's not going to be difficult in other ways. The remains of his wings - torn off rather than cut with iron to allow them to grow back and provide more paper to use for orders. - flick a little as he tries to read what's written on the rest of them miles away. ]
Return. Useless. Idiot. Suffer. Bring the vampire. Bring the vampire. Hurt. Useless. Bring me the vampire.
[ He repeats the commands as if he were reciting a list of ingredients, then makes a sound of frustration, as if that series of commands was just somewhat annoying. ]
I can't bring the vampire. He hasn't forgotten yet. It was written first, I have to do that first.
no subject
Alucard knows the look on his father's face, but he doesn't do much more than shudder. He can't. He knows his father, and if there is one thing his father will never compromise on, it is the safety of the family.
All he says is:]
It is five hours to daylight.
I am aware.
[The vampire becomes mist, leaving the two alone. He needed only a moment to locate the Silk Merchant. He will only need a more to condemn the man properly.]
no subject
[ And then the writing stops, and Trevor falls quiet. He grips Alucard's hand tighter. He can't know what's happened, but they can both suspect.
In among the pieces of wing being used to deliver orders and the silk and the little bottles of iron ink, alongside the chains and the scold's bridle is a single moth, both of its wings pinned into a piece of cork. The Unicorn strains against its own bonds as Dracula gets close to it, making ANGRY HORSE NOISES at him. It's probably important. ]
no subject
But as for Dracula. The Merchant is dead. He swipes the restraints of the unicorn away without a second's thought, hardly concerned about the thing or it's fate. It has done it's service, drawing his attention to the pinned moth.
He knows what it is. It is a Belmont's focus, and yet...there's something far deeper afoot, and there has always been one tenous, fragile agreement between himself and Leon.
The moth's pins are removed. Dracula does nothing more.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)