Thanks. I- for everything. But also for the eggs. Probably best that I make something. Not going to get any more sleep.
[ He stands a more-than-safe distance back from this kitchen's magic fire circles as they light with a pan over them. Those things are terrifying. ]
I know this is hard. I know I'm- difficult. To deal with. If it turns out you need to not deal with me- [ He breaks an egg into the pan and then turns to Alucard, tilting his head to ask if he wants any making for him. ]
-I won't do anything stupid, because of that. I don't want you to- you know. Think you have to put up with me or I'll go throw myself on a pyre.
[Overwhelming. Too much. Whatever it is, Alucard finishes by only shaking his head to show that he lacks words to do much more in terms of articulation.]
I understand the impulse though. It's hard to want to do anything when...
[ He chuckles, adding another egg to the pan. His shoulders rise a little - not defensively, not even enough to come close to his usual well-trained posture, but enough that he doesn't look like a sad, boneless mess. There's humour in him again for now, at least. A little poison drained from old wounds. ]
You'd think it'd get easier, after the job's done. Doesn't fucking seem to work that way, hmm?
[Harder when you're half undead, maybe. Alucard can't say, but at least Trevor looks a hair better. That's probably a life time of work, rearranging all those hairs but...
He doesn't know if that's something to spend a life time doing. Alucard knows how Sypha feels, admittedly.]
Was there anything else very stupid you were going to do that I have to remind you Sypha would disapprove of?
[ He divides the eggs onto plates, sliding one over to Alucard and snatching a little more bread from him in return. He sits, poking at the yolk of an egg with the bread. ]
I'll ask Sypha for help tracking the boat's course once she wakes up. That way she gets a chance to voice how she doesn't want me doing that. Also, I don't know how to track a fucking boat and she probably does.
[Alucard thought he indicated he wanted no eggs. Too late now, and so he just. Sits there contemplating the egg, before he puts some of the cheese atop it, watching the stuff melt slowly but surely.]
At least we can reliably predict her, you know. I can't remember the last time I could really do that with anyone.
Yeah. She's strange, but she's strange in the same ways all the time.
[ Too bad. Eggs. Trevor eats with all the grace of someone who's been too stuck in their own head to remember to eat in the last day, scooping up egg yolk with his bread and continuing only after a good few mouthfuls. He'd forgotten how much clearer things seem with food in one's belly. ]
've you ever even spent enough time around someone to learn to predict them before?
[Alucard sighs. He doesn't want to use a spoon. So grabbing another hunk of bread, using a vampire nail to cut a little bit of egg so it can be placed on the bread. It's not dignified.
[ Look, if he was going to complain about Alucard's table manners he'd have no room to complain right now. He practically has egg up his nose, he's so enthusiastic about getting food down his threat. ]
She would, but then she'd be disappointed. Start talking about how I need to be exposed just a little bit to what's normal for others. Something about removing the power of it.
Well shit. If you need to be exposed to normal people things, this isn’t exactly the company you ought to be keeping.
[ Well, Trevor’s back to normal, being shitty instead of sad. That’s probably good. ]
Do you want to remove its power? I think she’s right, but- I’m the one who fucked you up. We don’t get to choose for you how you put yourself back together.
[ That, the language of ‘you are doing something wrong’, that he responds to in a way that he never would for any amount of ‘you’re not to blame’. He puts his cutlery down on his plate neatly and sheepishly. ]
-yeah, okay. Maybe give her way a try first. At least for a little while. [ Another chuckle. ] If I have to stick around, so do you.
Mm. I think she exerts her will on us much more than she does when she uses magic.
[It's not a joke and Alucard doesn't want to joke about it anyway. Sypha has power over them both, and they're both well aware of it. Nothing will change it either, and so all they can do is be dragged along in the current behind her.]
[ Plates and cutlery get washed and put away in thoughtful, not unfriendly, silence. He’s asked a lot of Alucard with just this much conversation, he knows.
Trevor does leave again before long. But he also returns again. Leaves again and returns again, over and over. It grows cold again, and when he comes back in winter Sypha drags him into her bed on the colder nights despite the warmth of the castle. She keeps a fire going in the room, with both a thick rug and a large armchair in front of it so that some nights, when it’s easier, Alucard can join them in whichever form works best.
It’s nice, if a little uncomfortable for him having something so undefined. And then spring comes.
The burning isn’t anything new. Nothing that demands all three of them. Forgemasters are complicated to keep safe, being such valuable resources to so many who want power, but escorting the man somewhere safer shouldn’t have been difficult.
Trevor isn’t gone long enough to arouse suspicion that something might be wrong, and so the first indication is the gift. A night creature brings it, protecting the little parcel with its body as Sypha burns it to nothing. There, in the ashes, is a little bundle wrapped in a silk scarf.
The bundle contains two things. A human ear and a perfume bottle filled with a sweet-smelling liquid that used to be mixed into little Adrian’s meals. ]
[There's an overall pattern to it. Sure, the length of time that Trevor is away is different each and every time, but that's just fine by all of them. The little variations mixed with the comfort of familarity is good for the vampire, who has managed to at least let Sypha hold his wolfy paws once a day. She's gotten a few scratches behind the ears in on Alucard's best days, and that's amazing if you go by Sypha.
Alucard still isn't sure how he feels about it. But Sypha smile at him in such a way that it's impossible not to react, and so he keeps going with it all. Slinks into the room during the winter and dozes beside the fire either as a man or a wolf. (It's unrequired, the fire, since the castle is heated. It's still nice.)
All is well until it isn't, the night creature's presence a thing of horror (the blue of it's eyes is the first thing Alucard reacts to.) Immediately his nose flares when the bundle is opened. The ear? Fine. Creepy, but fine. The liquid?
He's almost knocked to the floor. He never wanted that smell in his life again, and he chokes out Carmilla's name before there's that wildness on his face that matches the same wildness when he chased Carmilla out of the castle.]
Intercepted. She'll expect us to mount a rescue, or she'll threaten us until we make the attempt. We plan, then we go. It's impossible for her to anticipate everything.
[Sypha doesn't like it. Doesn't like the change in the vampire's behavior or his declaration, but as Alucard explains the possibilities if they stall, it's...it's understood that pretending to go along with the plan is for the best. So they prepare. Sypha lives int he Hold for a week while Alucard draws diagram after diagram of what is likely to be where and how to outsmart it.
And then they leave for Styria, Alucard a wolf and Sypha herself, pretending to be a traveler and her very large dog.]
[ There's a little in the hold on the topic of Carmilla, some older. Most is new, added by Trevor over the last year, based upon their short encounter with her and the word of anyone he found to ask. By all his measurements, she shouldn't be recovered yet. She should still be in hiding at sea. They were meant to have another year, at least. She'd been gathering up her fledglings any time her ship made port, presumably in preparation for whatever conflict awaited, but it shouldn't have come so soon.
The answer comes once they enter Austria. Those vampires not loyal to Carmilla are fleeing into neighbouring countries. Those loyal to Carmilla speak of her swift recovery as a sign of her power and make little mention of the missing vampire Godbrand. Those few that Alucard and Sypha manage to find as they flee the country tell a different story.
Dracula never made fledglings, but if he had, even he would have never devoured them for power.
Carmilla's home is much as it was when Alucard fled it. Smaller than Dracula's castle, less like a living thing, perhaps less imposing to someone who doesn't think of Dracula's castle as home. It's still a terrible thing. The gardens are in full bloom, even so early in spring, alive with the blues and whites and deep greens of plants best not touched even through the safety of gloves. Beyond them, the castle itself looms tall and dark and ancient, with towers extending from it like thorns. A shrivelled figure hangs from one of those towers, swaying in the wind - Carmilla's sire, if rumour is to be believed.
The gates are unlocked, and the front door opens as Sypha and her totally-a-dog approach. A window is also open, several stories in the air - a tiny one, only large enough to a child to squeeze through.
[Vampiric cannibalism is something that never even occurred to Alucard. Or any other vampire, so far as he can tell when those fleeing explain the circumstances. He's amazed they'll talk to a Speaker at all, but he understands what's really being accomplished. Sypha will preserve the truth and pass it along to her people. The stories will be circulated. Carmilla's land will be devoid of people and when she moves beyond her own home, others shall be prepared.
He doesn't like it. The soft whines against Sypha make that clear every night as she settles down to rest and he keeps watch.
He hates it more as they approach the castle. No, his approach is not slowed, but the tension has him pulled taught like an bow string. Sypha hasn't tried petting him in a few days because he's too tense and Alucard's aware he might snap at her.
The window is faster. The gates are likely to lead on a grander chase.
Sypha's eyes go upward.
So Alucard shifts, has her ride piggy back, and moves them both up.]
We look through, see what's within, then make a decision.
[ Alucard's room is almost as it was when he left it, only cleaned since his escape. Too intricately decorated to really look like a cell, but devoid of anything meaningful. A bed decorated with beautiful cushions but missing blankets or anything that could be used to make rope. Decorations of the sort that can't be made into weapons. Shelves full of empty books. The keyhole and the spaces between the door and frame are probably still lined with a thin layer of silver, so that mist can't pass through them.
He's stronger now, though. Not alone. Even if the door is locked, they've power enough between them to force it. ]
[Alucard doesn't look. He asks Sypha to tell him if Trevor's in there. There's no sight of Trevor, and so they do not stop. Instead, Alucard rises higher and higher still, until there is a flat part of one of the roof lines to land on. It's a good way for Sypha to get a bird's eye view of the castle, and for the vampire to try and steady himself.
He's a wolf again, nose twitching and sniffing as the wind passes by. There's only one scent he's interested in, that of a Belmont.]
[ The scent is there, but distorted. The metallic stench of blood probably isn't unexpected, but there's something else, too. The too-sweet, choking smell of rotting flesh. The too-clean smell of magic, like air after lightning, coming from a source other than Sypha. The smell leads to one of the bartizans, held apart from the main structure of the building by a single walkway and nothing else in one of those statements of 'actually fuck the laws of physics, I'm powerful' that vampires are fond of.
There's suspiciously little between the roof and that structure, despite Carmilla clearly being ready for their arrival. It could be that her defenses were concentrated behind the obvious entrances. This is, however, Carmilla. ]
[A soft wolfy whine draws Sypha's attention to the bartizans. The way it hangs is awful, and Alucard doesn't like it.
Sypha's hands go for his fur, then stop suddenly. It is both a memory of how much Alucard dislikes it, but the fact he's shifted back into a man and is gesturing her onto his back.]
There's magic involved now. I don't know how much or what kind, but I don't like it. It's bad, and there's flesh in a poor state too. Probably on purpose. The walkway is going to be expected, so fire over my shoulder and tell me when to duck.
[Which is all to say that they aren't taking the walkway. Alucard floats up again, and then they approach the bartizan by coming up behind it. There are windows, there must be, and that is how they'll enter if the coast is clear.]
[ When they found him at the church, Trevor was bright-eyed. Alert. Spoke politely to the priests and addressed them by title. Had enough fight in him to leap to their defense when a witch and vampire came to his rescue, despite everything.
He doesn't look up when Sypha enters through the window. Oh, he's breathing. The sound of that comes out thick and moist-sounding, like footsteps in mud. And the way the light in Sypha's hands reflects from his eyes, they're open and he's conscious. But he doesn't look up. Doesn't flinch away from the light the way his bad eye usually makes him do. Doesn't move at all.
Sypha lowers the light, both because she knows of that bad eye and because now she's confirmed that the room is empty she'd rather lower the risk of being seen. In the darkness, the bad eye seems to be glowing a bright blue. That side of his body smells of rot and magic and blood, and it appears to be making a soft hissing noise. ]
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[ He stands a more-than-safe distance back from this kitchen's magic fire circles as they light with a pan over them. Those things are terrifying. ]
I know this is hard. I know I'm- difficult. To deal with. If it turns out you need to not deal with me- [ He breaks an egg into the pan and then turns to Alucard, tilting his head to ask if he wants any making for him. ]
-I won't do anything stupid, because of that. I don't want you to- you know. Think you have to put up with me or I'll go throw myself on a pyre.
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[Overwhelming. Too much. Whatever it is, Alucard finishes by only shaking his head to show that he lacks words to do much more in terms of articulation.]
I understand the impulse though. It's hard to want to do anything when...
[When the big event is all said and done.]
But for her sake, fight the impulse.
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[ He chuckles, adding another egg to the pan. His shoulders rise a little - not defensively, not even enough to come close to his usual well-trained posture, but enough that he doesn't look like a sad, boneless mess. There's humour in him again for now, at least. A little poison drained from old wounds. ]
You'd think it'd get easier, after the job's done. Doesn't fucking seem to work that way, hmm?
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[Harder when you're half undead, maybe. Alucard can't say, but at least Trevor looks a hair better. That's probably a life time of work, rearranging all those hairs but...
He doesn't know if that's something to spend a life time doing. Alucard knows how Sypha feels, admittedly.]
Was there anything else very stupid you were going to do that I have to remind you Sypha would disapprove of?
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[ He divides the eggs onto plates, sliding one over to Alucard and snatching a little more bread from him in return. He sits, poking at the yolk of an egg with the bread. ]
I'll ask Sypha for help tracking the boat's course once she wakes up. That way she gets a chance to voice how she doesn't want me doing that. Also, I don't know how to track a fucking boat and she probably does.
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At least we can reliably predict her, you know. I can't remember the last time I could really do that with anyone.
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[ Too bad. Eggs. Trevor eats with all the grace of someone who's been too stuck in their own head to remember to eat in the last day, scooping up egg yolk with his bread and continuing only after a good few mouthfuls. He'd forgotten how much clearer things seem with food in one's belly. ]
've you ever even spent enough time around someone to learn to predict them before?
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Suits them, doesn't it? At least him.]
...Not since I was very young.
[Before his mother's death, he means.]
I don't know if I care for it.
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[ Look, if he was going to complain about Alucard's table manners he'd have no room to complain right now. He practically has egg up his nose, he's so enthusiastic about getting food down his threat. ]
She'd understand, if you would.
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[ Well, Trevor’s back to normal, being shitty instead of sad. That’s probably good. ]
Do you want to remove its power? I think she’s right, but- I’m the one who fucked you up. We don’t get to choose for you how you put yourself back together.
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[It's just the vampire's turn to be his usual melancholic self. That's slightly better. Probably.]
I wouldn't say you, specifically, are responsible for that. Your family...contributed to the effort, but.
[He shakes his head no very slowly.]
I wouldn't know how to begin approaching recovery, Belmont. She has ideas, at least.
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[ His food is already gone. So yes. Maybe he very much did need to eat. He sighs, smiling ruefully. ]
As long as recovery is what you want.
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[Alucard, by contrast, has still has half of the egg on his plate. Which is pretty good for him, all things considered.]
Belmont, if I was to do what I really wanted I'd be asleep in a coffin for the next five hundred years at least.
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[ That, the language of ‘you are doing something wrong’, that he responds to in a way that he never would for any amount of ‘you’re not to blame’. He puts his cutlery down on his plate neatly and sheepishly. ]
-yeah, okay. Maybe give her way a try first. At least for a little while. [ Another chuckle. ] If I have to stick around, so do you.
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[It's not a joke and Alucard doesn't want to joke about it anyway. Sypha has power over them both, and they're both well aware of it. Nothing will change it either, and so all they can do is be dragged along in the current behind her.]
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[ Plates and cutlery get washed and put away in thoughtful, not unfriendly, silence. He’s asked a lot of Alucard with just this much conversation, he knows.
Trevor does leave again before long. But he also returns again. Leaves again and returns again, over and over. It grows cold again, and when he comes back in winter Sypha drags him into her bed on the colder nights despite the warmth of the castle. She keeps a fire going in the room, with both a thick rug and a large armchair in front of it so that some nights, when it’s easier, Alucard can join them in whichever form works best.
It’s nice, if a little uncomfortable for him having something so undefined. And then spring comes.
The burning isn’t anything new. Nothing that demands all three of them. Forgemasters are complicated to keep safe, being such valuable resources to so many who want power, but escorting the man somewhere safer shouldn’t have been difficult.
Trevor isn’t gone long enough to arouse suspicion that something might be wrong, and so the first indication is the gift. A night creature brings it, protecting the little parcel with its body as Sypha burns it to nothing. There, in the ashes, is a little bundle wrapped in a silk scarf.
The bundle contains two things. A human ear and a perfume bottle filled with a sweet-smelling liquid that used to be mixed into little Adrian’s meals. ]
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Alucard still isn't sure how he feels about it. But Sypha smile at him in such a way that it's impossible not to react, and so he keeps going with it all. Slinks into the room during the winter and dozes beside the fire either as a man or a wolf. (It's unrequired, the fire, since the castle is heated. It's still nice.)
All is well until it isn't, the night creature's presence a thing of horror (the blue of it's eyes is the first thing Alucard reacts to.) Immediately his nose flares when the bundle is opened. The ear? Fine. Creepy, but fine. The liquid?
He's almost knocked to the floor. He never wanted that smell in his life again, and he chokes out Carmilla's name before there's that wildness on his face that matches the same wildness when he chased Carmilla out of the castle.]
Intercepted. She'll expect us to mount a rescue, or she'll threaten us until we make the attempt. We plan, then we go. It's impossible for her to anticipate everything.
[Sypha doesn't like it. Doesn't like the change in the vampire's behavior or his declaration, but as Alucard explains the possibilities if they stall, it's...it's understood that pretending to go along with the plan is for the best. So they prepare. Sypha lives int he Hold for a week while Alucard draws diagram after diagram of what is likely to be where and how to outsmart it.
And then they leave for Styria, Alucard a wolf and Sypha herself, pretending to be a traveler and her very large dog.]
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The answer comes once they enter Austria. Those vampires not loyal to Carmilla are fleeing into neighbouring countries. Those loyal to Carmilla speak of her swift recovery as a sign of her power and make little mention of the missing vampire Godbrand. Those few that Alucard and Sypha manage to find as they flee the country tell a different story.
Dracula never made fledglings, but if he had, even he would have never devoured them for power.
Carmilla's home is much as it was when Alucard fled it. Smaller than Dracula's castle, less like a living thing, perhaps less imposing to someone who doesn't think of Dracula's castle as home. It's still a terrible thing. The gardens are in full bloom, even so early in spring, alive with the blues and whites and deep greens of plants best not touched even through the safety of gloves. Beyond them, the castle itself looms tall and dark and ancient, with towers extending from it like thorns. A shrivelled figure hangs from one of those towers, swaying in the wind - Carmilla's sire, if rumour is to be believed.
The gates are unlocked, and the front door opens as Sypha and her totally-a-dog approach. A window is also open, several stories in the air - a tiny one, only large enough to a child to squeeze through.
Obviously, both of these are traps. ]
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He doesn't like it. The soft whines against Sypha make that clear every night as she settles down to rest and he keeps watch.
He hates it more as they approach the castle. No, his approach is not slowed, but the tension has him pulled taught like an bow string. Sypha hasn't tried petting him in a few days because he's too tense and Alucard's aware he might snap at her.
The window is faster. The gates are likely to lead on a grander chase.
Sypha's eyes go upward.
So Alucard shifts, has her ride piggy back, and moves them both up.]
We look through, see what's within, then make a decision.
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He's stronger now, though. Not alone. Even if the door is locked, they've power enough between them to force it. ]
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He's a wolf again, nose twitching and sniffing as the wind passes by. There's only one scent he's interested in, that of a Belmont.]
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There's suspiciously little between the roof and that structure, despite Carmilla clearly being ready for their arrival. It could be that her defenses were concentrated behind the obvious entrances. This is, however, Carmilla. ]
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Sypha's hands go for his fur, then stop suddenly. It is both a memory of how much Alucard dislikes it, but the fact he's shifted back into a man and is gesturing her onto his back.]
There's magic involved now. I don't know how much or what kind, but I don't like it. It's bad, and there's flesh in a poor state too. Probably on purpose. The walkway is going to be expected, so fire over my shoulder and tell me when to duck.
[Which is all to say that they aren't taking the walkway. Alucard floats up again, and then they approach the bartizan by coming up behind it. There are windows, there must be, and that is how they'll enter if the coast is clear.]
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He doesn't look up when Sypha enters through the window. Oh, he's breathing. The sound of that comes out thick and moist-sounding, like footsteps in mud. And the way the light in Sypha's hands reflects from his eyes, they're open and he's conscious. But he doesn't look up. Doesn't flinch away from the light the way his bad eye usually makes him do. Doesn't move at all.
Sypha lowers the light, both because she knows of that bad eye and because now she's confirmed that the room is empty she'd rather lower the risk of being seen. In the darkness, the bad eye seems to be glowing a bright blue. That side of his body smells of rot and magic and blood, and it appears to be making a soft hissing noise. ]
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time for some EXTREME MOOD WHIPLASH
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