[ It’s him, nearly every time. It’s a luxury that he has, since hunting tends to be left to him. He knows before Sypha does if they won’t have animal blood to hand. ]
There’ll be stores here, more than likely. But I doubt they’ll have come from willing sources.
[ Which is the big problem with the blood thing. He doubts Alucard cares, willingness to give doesn’t change the blood at all. But he does. And if he’s going to pretend Alucard isn’t a monster- this is important. ]
Guessing you’d rather have the bottle than my wrist. [ He says, finishing the task and handing the bottle over. ]
Won't be. Has to be fresh. Blood'll coagulate otherwise.
[He doesn't respond to the wrist comment. Alucard simply takes the bottle and drains it quickly, aware that the moment one drop touches his lips, there's a sense of relief. His all too pale face has a moment of color, and it endures as he drains the bottle.
But as he sits (awkward, hunched over, trying to find a comfortable spot), his feet brush against the floor. The castle vibrates in response, and when the vampire removes the bottle from his mouth, there's something close to a smile on his face.
He leans down, pressing a palm to the floor.]
Yes. [His voice is a whisper, aware that it's threatening to crack.] I've missed you too.
Can’t blame you. I’d rather have the bottle than me, too.
[ He leans his head back, staring up at the ceiling, and then jumps when the castle shakes. That’s too early. Sypha shouldn’t have made this much progress yet- ]
...-it’s. Talking to you.
[ You know what? Not the weirdest thing he’s ever experienced. ]
Yes. [Alucard’s response is still whisper soft, and he strokes the floor once or twice before withdrawing his hand. He moves slowly as he struggles to sit upright again, and his free hand moves to wipe the threat of tears from his eyes.] In it’s way. I….it had assumed us all dead.
[There’s an unsteady breath that follows the statement.]
[ Is he meant to feel guilty about this? He does, a little, but what was the alternative? Just let Dracula kill all of them? To make a house happy? He sighs. He shouldn’t be seeing this. ]
[There’s sincerity in that. That trying to murder Carmilla and then having an entire house rumble like a large kitten is the best welcome the vampire has ever had since he was forced out of his home. Alucard sighs when the truth of that off hand comment really comes home to roost, and he tries to shake it away.]
[ He doesn’t have to like Alucard overmuch to understand a little of what he’s been through. Wallachia isn’t a kind place, certainly not to people who stand out. ]
Looks worse than it is. [ The worst of the cuts does, indeed look worse than it is. The gouge is deep but the cut is clean, and her claws scraped over his collarbone rather than his throat. It could have been worlds worse. ] As for poison, there’s no way to know until it takes effect. You’ll have taken more of it than me, if she was using it.
No. I would have tasted it, and your blood was normal enough.
[It's not a normal thing to say at all, but the vampire doesn't care.]
She usually used small doses of things that would otherwise be fast agents. Took pleasure in seeing someone ration out just how much they could stomach before they'd put themselves at real risk of death.
[He tries to be matter of fact about this. Being home it’s...he’s not more open. Just calmer. More willing to try and respond to what kindness has been shown, because at least here, home, he’s safe as he’s ever been.
It doesn’t stop the lump in his throat.]
After...everything [you deprived me of my father], I was out in the wilderness. Couldn’t find the castle. So she found me instead, and I kicked and screamed and bit all the way back to Styria. Held me long enough to declare her a guardian, then wanted my death to be slow so she could say it was grief. Or illness. The poor constitution of a half-breed.
[Alucard spits the last word out.]
I was ten. I sat there calculating how much I could manage as I was wasting away. Escaped in the daylight by good fortune and found myself a river. Floated down it, covered my wolf-form in mud, and tried to at least get away from her.
[ He cuts himself off. That’s a pointless line of thought. If they’d know, they would have done a lot of things differently. ]
I’m sorry.
[ God, he’d thought Alucard was some ancient vampire. They’re practically the same age. That... puts a lot of things into perspective. He wants to offer Alucard a hand. That’s what seems natural to him. But he can’t, and so instead he pulls the white cape up around his shoulders instead, touching only by proxy. ] If you need to hear it - you didn’t deserve this bullshit.
[There’s a lot of responses he could give. You would have what? This is your fault. I’d be dead too and at least be less miserable. Alucard doesn’t reply with any of them.]
My life was the greatest secret my father kept from humanity. If you were doing something differently, he would have sense he failed.
[He doesn’t say more. Alucard falls silent instead, hardly reacting to the fabric or it’s warmth. The silence lingers, and he shakes his head slowly, like that might prompt more words from him.
It doesn’t. There’s a soft noise of...it’s ambiguous what it means. A softer rumble comes from the castle itself.]
[ This is his fault. It's his fault, and he's painfully aware of it. But there's nothing he can do to make it right. ]
There's a scrape on your scalp I couldn't get to through the hair. [ Is all he says after a while, soft and distracted. ] I don't think it's anything worrisome, but you should take advantage of this place's magic water while we're here and get it cleaned up. You'll be more comfortable, if nothing else.
[Alucard can't recount the last time he bathed. Hot, warm water? Oh, he can only dream of it. But there is something more important that he needs to do first, and that requires standing.
There's a groan of effort as Alucard rises to his feet, trying not to bump against the Belmont.]
I need a stick or something to steady myself against. There should be something here that will speed my recovery.
[ He hauls himself to his feet. The movement is easier than it seems to be to Alucard, but it's still a struggle. Just until Dracula's gone. His body only needs to hold itself together for that long. ]
Can you lean against me?
[ It's a genuine question - he doesn't know if Alucard'll panic as much as he does when touched if it's him who is touching someone else. ]
If not- shit, I don't know. There's a curtain pole up there, but I don't know how you'd feel about me tearing parts off your house.
[This'll be taken the wrong way. So Alcard clarifies, forcing his eyes to meet Trevor's.]
Even in his madness, I do not believe my father would forgive me for leading anyone to his coffin at the heart of this castle. It's one of his few remaining secrets, and I would like to honor that.
...yeah. I understand. Trust me, I'm more than happy to not see any more of his secrets than I already have.
[ The ceilings here are far, far too high, and the curtain pole is a good three times his height away from the ground. He takes a second to judge the distance and then sends the whip flying up there to coil around one of the wall fastenings, pulling it until it snaps and curtains and pole come crashing down in a torrent of heavy velvet. Moonlight floods into the room through the window, and he digs through the layers of curtain to find the pole and offers it over. ]
If you found where the bathroom is, then you’ve found….the kitchen’s a few doors down. [Where we lived. Home.] Stay in that area, you’ll be fine.
[And so the vampire departs, but not before carefully folding Trevor’s cloak and handing it back. Better that that not be exposed to Dracula’s coffin.
It’s such slow going, moving down corridors with the curtain rod as a staff. It takes an hour to reach it, the heart of the castle, his father’s crypt. Gears turn and churn overhead. The castle tells him it’s okay, and exhaustion shorts any other more emotional reaction. The dark obsidian gleams in the electric light, and Alucard climbs in to rest.
He is gone a day and a half. It is a day and a half of deep sleep, the enchantments and great glass vials of blood working their magic. That and the familiar, much missed scent of Dracula. It’s hard to say what it is that restores the vampire, but he is restored. The wounds healed as best as they can be, and when he walks into the library, he moves as if he has never been injured at all.
His hair and the rest of Alucard is also clean. Shining almost, all dirt from his skin gone, his hair combed and neat. Healthy isn’t the right word, but recovering is.]
Is my cloak dry yet?
[The castle told him one of the humans was here. It didn’t say which.]
[ The cloak is actually spread over his lap at present, as he works on patching a sizable hole in it. Sypha's spare robes are folded neatly next to him - with her doing all the actual work, he's taken on more menial tasks. The laundry, keeping her fed, and now darning clothes damaged by battle and travel.
And then he looks up, and for a moment he doesn't speak. ]
-it was just- just about dry this morning. I'll be done soon.
[ Shit. Shit. Shit, he should not be staring at the vampire like this. ]
[Alucard blinks once, and tilts his head at the Belmont. He doesn't know why he's being looked at like that. He's never seen a gaze like that before, and so his eyes move to the cloak and what it is Trevor's doing with it.]
I....oh. Thank you, you didn't need to do that.
[He's safe in this house. He doesn't have to leap to defend himself for once.]
[ A lock of hair escapes from behind Alucard's ear when he tilts his head and falls forward, and Trevor's eyes follow it more closely than they've ever followed a night creature. His mouth hangs open just slightly, as if he was about to say something but thought better of it. There's a needle in the fleshy part of his thumb and it takes him a good three seconds to notice.
Shit.
He looks away from Alucard when he speaks, because that's the only way his thoughts are going to be at all coherent, cheeks rapidly flushing the way they do when he has to ask Sypha to please change clothes in the wagon where people can't see. ]
-don't like leaving things broken. Feels wrong not to try to make them right.
[Alucard's nostrils flare. Blood. He knows the scent, and moreover, he knows Trevor's scent. He's consumed it enough, after all.
But he isn't hungry. He can't remember a time when that wasn't the case, and in that is a terrible, wonderful luxury. Being home. Resting. Oh, everything's still shit, but slightly less shit. It feels worlds better.]
I see.
[That sounds suspiciously like a metaphor. It is also the moment that Alucard realizes that some of his hair has escaped, and he pauses to tuck it back behind his ear.]
[ WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT SOUNDS LIKE A METAPHOR HE'S JUST TALKING ABOUT WANTING TO FIX CLOAKS GOSH. ]
Just about. Sypha says that once the castle moves she can make sure that the magic around the hold doesn't tear it apart, which sounds- better than the alternative.
[ That was the main difficulty here. Alucard can move the castle, with nobody trying to stop him. But none of them knew what putting the castle into Dracula's magical barrier would do. They still don't, but Sypha's at least confident that she can make sure that it's 'not destroy the castle, them, and possibly that entire part of Wallachia'.
I see. [Alucard has a thought, but he doesn't articulate it. Not yet. Not until he's sure.] I'll check in with her soon then. The castle might have thoughts, although it's...it's unhappy. Why we're here. What we mean to do.
[It's furious. It's weeping. Alucard knows because it reflects every feeling inside of him right now too.]
[ That, he's not hurt by. It makes sense. this castle's fought off generations of Belmonts - no doubt it wants him out. ] No to worry. Just a little longer, and you'll be free of me.
[ He does look up at Alucard again after a moment, trying not to stare like he did before. It's hard. He's- fuck. If he weren't well aware of what compulsion feels like, he'd suspect it. He's so impossibly beautiful. ]
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There’ll be stores here, more than likely. But I doubt they’ll have come from willing sources.
[ Which is the big problem with the blood thing. He doubts Alucard cares, willingness to give doesn’t change the blood at all. But he does. And if he’s going to pretend Alucard isn’t a monster- this is important. ]
Guessing you’d rather have the bottle than my wrist. [ He says, finishing the task and handing the bottle over. ]
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[He doesn't respond to the wrist comment. Alucard simply takes the bottle and drains it quickly, aware that the moment one drop touches his lips, there's a sense of relief. His all too pale face has a moment of color, and it endures as he drains the bottle.
But as he sits (awkward, hunched over, trying to find a comfortable spot), his feet brush against the floor. The castle vibrates in response, and when the vampire removes the bottle from his mouth, there's something close to a smile on his face.
He leans down, pressing a palm to the floor.]
Yes. [His voice is a whisper, aware that it's threatening to crack.] I've missed you too.
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Can’t blame you. I’d rather have the bottle than me, too.
[ He leans his head back, staring up at the ceiling, and then jumps when the castle shakes. That’s too early. Sypha shouldn’t have made this much progress yet- ]
...-it’s. Talking to you.
[ You know what? Not the weirdest thing he’s ever experienced. ]
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[There’s an unsteady breath that follows the statement.]
It’s happy.
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[ Is he meant to feel guilty about this? He does, a little, but what was the alternative? Just let Dracula kill all of them? To make a house happy? He sighs. He shouldn’t be seeing this. ]
Welcome home, I suppose.
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[There’s sincerity in that. That trying to murder Carmilla and then having an entire house rumble like a large kitten is the best welcome the vampire has ever had since he was forced out of his home. Alucard sighs when the truth of that off hand comment really comes home to roost, and he tries to shake it away.]
She didn’t strike to deeply at you?
[He’s trying. He really is.]
And there was no poison on her claws?
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[ He doesn’t have to like Alucard overmuch to understand a little of what he’s been through. Wallachia isn’t a kind place, certainly not to people who stand out. ]
Looks worse than it is. [ The worst of the cuts does, indeed look worse than it is. The gouge is deep but the cut is clean, and her claws scraped over his collarbone rather than his throat. It could have been worlds worse. ] As for poison, there’s no way to know until it takes effect. You’ll have taken more of it than me, if she was using it.
[ A pause. ]
So I’ll worry about that if you get sick.
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[It's not a normal thing to say at all, but the vampire doesn't care.]
She usually used small doses of things that would otherwise be fast agents. Took pleasure in seeing someone ration out just how much they could stomach before they'd put themselves at real risk of death.
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[ He listens, and- ] Stomach.
[ That implies poison in food, not on a weapon. That implies- ]
You knew her before we came here. [ Its slightly more thoughtful than ‘you were her prisoner, but that’s the picture he’s getting. ]
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[He tries to be matter of fact about this. Being home it’s...he’s not more open. Just calmer. More willing to try and respond to what kindness has been shown, because at least here, home, he’s safe as he’s ever been.
It doesn’t stop the lump in his throat.]
After...everything [you deprived me of my father], I was out in the wilderness. Couldn’t find the castle. So she found me instead, and I kicked and screamed and bit all the way back to Styria. Held me long enough to declare her a guardian, then wanted my death to be slow so she could say it was grief. Or illness. The poor constitution of a half-breed.
[Alucard spits the last word out.]
I was ten. I sat there calculating how much I could manage as I was wasting away. Escaped in the daylight by good fortune and found myself a river. Floated down it, covered my wolf-form in mud, and tried to at least get away from her.
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[ He cuts himself off. That’s a pointless line of thought. If they’d know, they would have done a lot of things differently. ]
I’m sorry.
[ God, he’d thought Alucard was some ancient vampire. They’re practically the same age. That... puts a lot of things into perspective. He wants to offer Alucard a hand. That’s what seems natural to him. But he can’t, and so instead he pulls the white cape up around his shoulders instead, touching only by proxy. ] If you need to hear it - you didn’t deserve this bullshit.
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My life was the greatest secret my father kept from humanity. If you were doing something differently, he would have sense he failed.
[He doesn’t say more. Alucard falls silent instead, hardly reacting to the fabric or it’s warmth. The silence lingers, and he shakes his head slowly, like that might prompt more words from him.
It doesn’t. There’s a soft noise of...it’s ambiguous what it means. A softer rumble comes from the castle itself.]
It’s happened. That’s all there is in the end.
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[ This is his fault. It's his fault, and he's painfully aware of it. But there's nothing he can do to make it right. ]
There's a scrape on your scalp I couldn't get to through the hair. [ Is all he says after a while, soft and distracted. ] I don't think it's anything worrisome, but you should take advantage of this place's magic water while we're here and get it cleaned up. You'll be more comfortable, if nothing else.
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[Alucard can't recount the last time he bathed. Hot, warm water? Oh, he can only dream of it. But there is something more important that he needs to do first, and that requires standing.
There's a groan of effort as Alucard rises to his feet, trying not to bump against the Belmont.]
I need a stick or something to steady myself against. There should be something here that will speed my recovery.
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Can you lean against me?
[ It's a genuine question - he doesn't know if Alucard'll panic as much as he does when touched if it's him who is touching someone else. ]
If not- shit, I don't know. There's a curtain pole up there, but I don't know how you'd feel about me tearing parts off your house.
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[This'll be taken the wrong way. So Alcard clarifies, forcing his eyes to meet Trevor's.]
Even in his madness, I do not believe my father would forgive me for leading anyone to his coffin at the heart of this castle. It's one of his few remaining secrets, and I would like to honor that.
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[ The ceilings here are far, far too high, and the curtain pole is a good three times his height away from the ground. He takes a second to judge the distance and then sends the whip flying up there to coil around one of the wall fastenings, pulling it until it snaps and curtains and pole come crashing down in a torrent of heavy velvet. Moonlight floods into the room through the window, and he digs through the layers of curtain to find the pole and offers it over. ]
Don't push yourself too hard.
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[And so the vampire departs, but not before carefully folding Trevor’s cloak and handing it back. Better that that not be exposed to Dracula’s coffin.
It’s such slow going, moving down corridors with the curtain rod as a staff. It takes an hour to reach it, the heart of the castle, his father’s crypt. Gears turn and churn overhead. The castle tells him it’s okay, and exhaustion shorts any other more emotional reaction. The dark obsidian gleams in the electric light, and Alucard climbs in to rest.
He is gone a day and a half. It is a day and a half of deep sleep, the enchantments and great glass vials of blood working their magic. That and the familiar, much missed scent of Dracula. It’s hard to say what it is that restores the vampire, but he is restored. The wounds healed as best as they can be, and when he walks into the library, he moves as if he has never been injured at all.
His hair and the rest of Alucard is also clean. Shining almost, all dirt from his skin gone, his hair combed and neat. Healthy isn’t the right word, but recovering is.]
Is my cloak dry yet?
[The castle told him one of the humans was here. It didn’t say which.]
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[ The cloak is actually spread over his lap at present, as he works on patching a sizable hole in it. Sypha's spare robes are folded neatly next to him - with her doing all the actual work, he's taken on more menial tasks. The laundry, keeping her fed, and now darning clothes damaged by battle and travel.
And then he looks up, and for a moment he doesn't speak. ]
-it was just- just about dry this morning. I'll be done soon.
[ Shit. Shit. Shit, he should not be staring at the vampire like this. ]
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I....oh. Thank you, you didn't need to do that.
[He's safe in this house. He doesn't have to leap to defend himself for once.]
Why are you doing that?
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[ A lock of hair escapes from behind Alucard's ear when he tilts his head and falls forward, and Trevor's eyes follow it more closely than they've ever followed a night creature. His mouth hangs open just slightly, as if he was about to say something but thought better of it. There's a needle in the fleshy part of his thumb and it takes him a good three seconds to notice.
Shit.
He looks away from Alucard when he speaks, because that's the only way his thoughts are going to be at all coherent, cheeks rapidly flushing the way they do when he has to ask Sypha to please change clothes in the wagon where people can't see. ]
-don't like leaving things broken. Feels wrong not to try to make them right.
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But he isn't hungry. He can't remember a time when that wasn't the case, and in that is a terrible, wonderful luxury. Being home. Resting. Oh, everything's still shit, but slightly less shit. It feels worlds better.]
I see.
[That sounds suspiciously like a metaphor. It is also the moment that Alucard realizes that some of his hair has escaped, and he pauses to tuck it back behind his ear.]
You've found everything else you've needed?
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Just about. Sypha says that once the castle moves she can make sure that the magic around the hold doesn't tear it apart, which sounds- better than the alternative.
[ That was the main difficulty here. Alucard can move the castle, with nobody trying to stop him. But none of them knew what putting the castle into Dracula's magical barrier would do. They still don't, but Sypha's at least confident that she can make sure that it's 'not destroy the castle, them, and possibly that entire part of Wallachia'.
He still isn't looking at Alucard. ]
If you need a little more time-
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I see. [Alucard has a thought, but he doesn't articulate it. Not yet. Not until he's sure.] I'll check in with her soon then. The castle might have thoughts, although it's...it's unhappy. Why we're here. What we mean to do.
[It's furious. It's weeping. Alucard knows because it reflects every feeling inside of him right now too.]
I'll rest there again tonight. It has helped.
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[ That, he's not hurt by. It makes sense. this castle's fought off generations of Belmonts - no doubt it wants him out. ] No to worry. Just a little longer, and you'll be free of me.
[ He does look up at Alucard again after a moment, trying not to stare like he did before. It's hard. He's- fuck. If he weren't well aware of what compulsion feels like, he'd suspect it. He's so impossibly beautiful. ]
Helped you, or helped the castle?
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time for some EXTREME MOOD WHIPLASH
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