[Hector steps inside the castle and looks around. The feel of the place is different under Alucard's ownership than it was for his father. It is not just the result of the ongoing repairs after the battles within.]
Yes, there's a bath that I used when I lived here. It faced the east and had windows, so the vampires couldn't use it.
[He heads across the entryway and up the steps in the direction he remembers the room to be. It's a testament to Dracula's overconfidence that his castle has so many windows. If Hector's one weakness was sunlight, he would avoid them in his architecture, but Dracula had claimed he liked the view from them in the moonlight.]
Things haven't...moved around, have they? It used to be near my lab, if the layout is the same.
[Alucard's aware of how things has changed. Some of it has been repairs, but the curtains? Those are drawn back these days. The castle is full of natural sunlight, and with less murder happening in the castle in general, it is inevitable there might be something well, nicer in the air.
As for moving around...]
I haven't changed the layout. There was a side room next to that lab, correct? I'll meet you there.
[Hector and Isaac had been given quarters that could take advantage of those windows. Hector had chosen the east. For someone on a mostly nocturnal schedule at the time, he had enjoyed watching the sunrise at the end of his work 'day'.
Hector didn't bother bringing his own soaps or towels. The castle had always been well-stocked with supplies.
He doesn't know why Alucard needs to meet him there, but he nods. His feet carry him up the stairs and through the familiar hallways. There is a stillness that was never there in previous days, when the castle practically thrummed with bloodlust.
...maybe this is how Castlevania felt when Dracula's wife had lived.
He reaches the lab, now empty of all of his tools of the trade. Through the empty room to the bathroom.]
[Because there always are. Every bathroom is stocked. Every bed has sheets on it. It is a matter of hospitality, but also a matter of pride for the dhampir. Doing right, making sure the house can welcome guests. It's what his mother would want, and it's easier, running the place with that thought.
Alucard's not sure how long Hector will be in the bath. Doesn't matter, and perhaps it will be a while. He may want to luxuriate in having running water again. All Alucard knows is that half an hour later, he makes his own way up to the third east wing, and settles in that side room.
It's small. Just a fireplace and a sofa, two windows to let in the light. He settles at one end of the sofa, then closes his eyes. Just a little. Just to rest them.]
[Hector wastes no time running a bath with the hottest water the castle can produce. As good as it is to relax in the steaming waters, Hector has never been inclined to sit idle when there is a task to be done.
Knowing that the end result will be scrutiny by a sensitive vampire nose, Hector takes care to scrub every inch of himself, twice. He avoids using any perfumed salts or scented soaps; the point of this experiment isn't to mask his scent. He wants to know if the scent he bears is a result of his actions or if it is a fact of his being.
He washes his hair, wrings it dry, and finally rises from the tub to towel himself off. Dressing back in his own clothes would taint the experiment, so he pulls on a robe instead before stepping out barefoot into the east wing chamber.
And there Alucard sits, bathed in sunlight, resting or dozing and looking impossibly serene and beautiful. 'Breathtaking' does not feel like too strong a word to use. Hector, with his skin scrubbed pink and his hair hanging wet around his face, feels shabby in his presence.
Hector watches him for a moment, free for once to look his fill at the other man. Then he clears his throat to break the hypnotic spell and return to whatever this experiment of theirs is.]
[Alucard doesn't turn towards Hector, or even open his eyes. He remains in his seat, not quite a lazy dhampir, but taking this all in stride. It's a testament to...whatever the hell the relationship between them qualifies as, as it is not one of adversaries. That much has been evident for some time now.
Finally though, Alucard does open his eyes and cast a glance at Hector. The robe wasn't something he recalled putting in the bathroom, but it's purpose is clear enough.]
I took as long as I needed. I didn’t come here to relax, and it would be rude to keep you waiting.
[He’s unsettled by Alucard’s lack of reaction, but he tries to hide it. So he was caught staring. So what?
He crosses the room and takes a seat on the other end of the couch.]
I also didn’t come here to be sniffed from across the room. Smell me properly.
[There’s no way for this to not be awkward, so the best recourse is to just do it. Hector isn’t leaving until he has a definitive answer as to whether the scent of death can be scrubbed away.]
You could have. I wouldn't have minded, although I suppose I would have missed Cesar more.
[He loves the dog, what can he say? But there's no need to focus on that, not with Hector finally taking a seat. A part of Alucard, the bit that's a contrary, rude thing, surfaces.]
What, a part of the experiment doesn't include the distance it takes for me to notice the particular nuances of your scent? [Which is a valid scientific matter, Hector!]
Soap still, by the way. A little natural musk, everyone has it.
[But fine. To the point. Alucard inches down on the sofa until he's beside Hector, but not crowding the man either.]
[It's intimate without being overly so, and it allows a modicum of distance. Enough to hopefully ease the discomfort.
Alucard places one hand under Hector's wrist, gently guiding it to his nose. There's no snuffling about like a dog, or even getting his nose right up against the skin. Instead, Alucard holds Hector's wrist about half an inch away, and when he sniffs he tries to keep the noise as muted as possible.
Then he takes another whiff, this one a little louder.]
There's a faint hint of grave dirt here, but the soap and other smells mask it, mostly.
[Hector frowns, not taking his wrist back from Alucard's hold.]
So it really is a part of me...
[He could try to cover it up, but it will always be there, an inevitability. Was there ever any choice for him, or was he always destined to end up what he is now? How deep does the imprint of his power go, he wonders?
The thought takes root, and Hector knows he won't be able to put it aside. He meets Alucard's eyes, making a decision and going all in in the span of a single moment.]
I need you to do another test for me. Tell me what I taste like.
[He moves closer, disrupting all of Alucard's carefully maintained propriety.]
Think about how long you've been around it though. You were young when you first began to explore this ability, yes? It makes sense that the frequency would simply become a part of you. There will always be a sharp undertone of blood for myself for a similar reason.
[It's a calm explanation, all logic and thoughtfulness rather than utterances of destiny or--
--okay. That request takes Alucard by genuine surprise, his hand dropping Hector's wrist by accident. There's a little wide-eyeness to the dhampir.]
I....er.
Did you have a particular method of sampling in mind?
[He leans in, feeling more certain the closer he approaches. He doesn't mind the implications of what he is learning, he just needs to know for sure. Alucard's hesitance reminds him- tasting would mean something very different to a vampire that it would humans.]
You don't drink blood. I wouldn't ask that of you. You have two humans. I assume you have some clue as to other ways we could gather this data.
[In case Alucard is still confused, Hector closes the distance between them until their noses brush, close enough to share a single breath.]
[Alucard doesn't correct Hector's you don't drink blood statement. Alucard does, just non-human blood and with less frequency than what a vampire needs. But as for the rest...
...six weeks. He's been alone and touch starved for six weeks, and that's the worst part of all of this. Alucard's learned how much he loves giving and receiving affection - a by product of watching his parents be so physically close whenever thy could be.
The rest is instinct, although it's still cautious. The press of Alucard's lips against Hector's is gentle. Chaste. Giving the other a chance to withdraw from all of this if he still so chooses.]
[Chaste is nothing. Hector isn't going to back down from something as simple as a kiss. He presses forward, parting his lips so Alucard can get a proper sample.
Hector is not above killing two birds with one stone (not that he would ever kill a bird). He can find out more about his powers and kiss an impossibly handsome man who would normally be out of his reach. To waste this opportunity would be foolhardy.
Hector shifts, bumping his leg against Alucard as he draws in closer. Thorough testing is something every man of science can appreciate.]
[Alucard is very careful as Hector's lips part, because here lies where so many things can go wrong: his fangs. The whole thing is a matter of angles, and while Hector may not react as strong to drawing blood during a kiss as say, Trevor might, it is still a matter Alucard is careful of.
But oh, he deepens the kiss all the same. Moves one hand up to cup Hector's cheek, the other remaining on the sofa and grabbing at the fabric below. The bum of legs? Hell. Alucard moves a little closer, tucking his ankles closer against the edge of the sofa.]
[Hector isn't squeamish. A little blood wouldn't send him running. He was always protected in Dracula's court, but that doesn't mean he wasn't curious about what it would be like to allow someone to feed from him.
He is less cautious that Alucard, exploring with lips and tongue. He encounters fangs, which is a novel experience, and if there is a momentary prick of pain and the faint taste of copper, he barely notices in the onslaught of other sensations. Alucard's hand on his cheek is cooler than he would expect; the hair, when Hector reaches up to stroke back the stray golden strands tickling his face, is just as soft as he imagined it would be.
Drawing near to what he could feasibly write off as a test, Hector draws back. He hopes Alucard can't hear his heart's thumping.]
[It's hard for Alucard to not react to the hand in his hair. The noise of delight is pressed into Hector's mouth, muted and hopefully with Hector not noticing.
But. Verdict. Yes, that, the thing that's important, not the loud noise of Alucard's heartbeat or Hector's.]
Human, mostly. [That sharp, wonderful bit of copper doesn't count.] Nothing of the grave. Just...a little bit of herbs.
[Hector has no chance with Alucard, he knows. But Alucard hasn't stopped him yet, so he's emboldened. Whatever consequences he faces for this, it will be worth it.]
Is that conclusive?
[His tone, the fact that his leg is still pressed against Alucard's, the fingers twirling through golden hair...it should be pretty hard for Alucard to miss the implication that Hector is more than willing to go through some rigorous trials to be sure.]
It's a surprising result that deserves another look.
[Why didn't he taste like spanikopita
He leans back in, and this time the muted hesitation, the idea that Hector might need an out isn't there. Alucard's far faster, far more forthright, his hand no longer going to Hector's cheek but to his waist, gripping the fabric of the robe.
Still, he's cautious of fangs as he opens his own mouth against Hector's, angling everything just so.]
[Because no one in Wallachia is willing to invest the time in making some damned phyllo, that's why!
Hector hums with delight as Alucard responds this time; it is not like the dhampir to tiptoe around so delicately. He leans his body back into the couch and hooks a finger in Alucard's collar to drag him along with Hector. He's not strong enough to actually move Alucard anywhere he doesn't want to be, but he can give him a suggestion of where he'd like him to be.
It would probably be smart to avoid the fangs, but when has Hector ever done the smart thing? He's curious, and curiosity is the driving force in his life. He wants to map out the length and width, to understand all the ways Alucard's bone structure differs from his own. He would very much like to keep kissing him for as long as he's allowed, but he can't help himself, like a moth drawn to candle light.]
[So Alucard is dragged along by a necromancer. He can't say that he expected such a thing to happen, but he's not expected a lot of things to happen in life. This is a lesser surprise.
But he licks his way into Hector's mouth with a composed steadiness, plenty aware of his own fangs and where Trevor falls in relation to them. It's not unpleasant at all, but the sudden grab has thrown the vampire off balance. His palm rests just on the outside of Hector's thigh in order to support himself at the current angle, the other hand just behind Hector's head and dangling off the back of the couch.
Hector's hell bent on going for the fangs though. Alucard, if he could think right now, would glom onto why but that isn't happening. Thinking he means, because the only thing that's taking up his vision is Hector and--
--oh, that's definitely blood in Alucard's mouth.]
[There are moments of dawning awareness in Hector's life, when he looks around and realizes that he's in the midst of danger of his own doing. He invited Dracula into his home, he followed Carmilla into her trap, and now he's currently dragging a dhampir down on top of him and giving him a taste of Hector's blood.
Does it taste normal, he wonders?
The pain of the bleeding nick on his tongue gives him no pause, but the strengthening taste of copper finally does. He is forcing blood on one who prefers not to drink from humans. Hector is many things- careless, rude, impulsive- but he is not inclined to be cruel.
He lets out a sigh and turns his face away from Alucard's.]
...sorry....[He murmurs somewhere near Alucard's ear.]
[Alucard won't lie that he is relieved when Hector pulls away. It's only because the taste of blood is overwhelming, and he at least needs a moment's worth of air to swallow it. So he does so, but the rest of him stays where he is.]
['Slowly' isn't the word Hector would use. He presses his tongue to the roof of his mouth and swallows the blood, trying to staunch the flow with pressure.]
Where's the fun in that?
[Here they both are, trying to catch their breath, neither backing down but both uncertain how to move forward.
Hector brushes Alucard's hair back behind his ear.]
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Yes, there's a bath that I used when I lived here. It faced the east and had windows, so the vampires couldn't use it.
[He heads across the entryway and up the steps in the direction he remembers the room to be. It's a testament to Dracula's overconfidence that his castle has so many windows. If Hector's one weakness was sunlight, he would avoid them in his architecture, but Dracula had claimed he liked the view from them in the moonlight.]
Things haven't...moved around, have they? It used to be near my lab, if the layout is the same.
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[Alucard's aware of how things has changed. Some of it has been repairs, but the curtains? Those are drawn back these days. The castle is full of natural sunlight, and with less murder happening in the castle in general, it is inevitable there might be something well, nicer in the air.
As for moving around...]
I haven't changed the layout. There was a side room next to that lab, correct? I'll meet you there.
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[Hector and Isaac had been given quarters that could take advantage of those windows. Hector had chosen the east. For someone on a mostly nocturnal schedule at the time, he had enjoyed watching the sunrise at the end of his work 'day'.
Hector didn't bother bringing his own soaps or towels. The castle had always been well-stocked with supplies.
He doesn't know why Alucard needs to meet him there, but he nods. His feet carry him up the stairs and through the familiar hallways. There is a stillness that was never there in previous days, when the castle practically thrummed with bloodlust.
...maybe this is how Castlevania felt when Dracula's wife had lived.
He reaches the lab, now empty of all of his tools of the trade. Through the empty room to the bathroom.]
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[Because there always are. Every bathroom is stocked. Every bed has sheets on it. It is a matter of hospitality, but also a matter of pride for the dhampir. Doing right, making sure the house can welcome guests. It's what his mother would want, and it's easier, running the place with that thought.
Alucard's not sure how long Hector will be in the bath. Doesn't matter, and perhaps it will be a while. He may want to luxuriate in having running water again. All Alucard knows is that half an hour later, he makes his own way up to the third east wing, and settles in that side room.
It's small. Just a fireplace and a sofa, two windows to let in the light. He settles at one end of the sofa, then closes his eyes. Just a little. Just to rest them.]
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Knowing that the end result will be scrutiny by a sensitive vampire nose, Hector takes care to scrub every inch of himself, twice. He avoids using any perfumed salts or scented soaps; the point of this experiment isn't to mask his scent. He wants to know if the scent he bears is a result of his actions or if it is a fact of his being.
He washes his hair, wrings it dry, and finally rises from the tub to towel himself off. Dressing back in his own clothes would taint the experiment, so he pulls on a robe instead before stepping out barefoot into the east wing chamber.
And there Alucard sits, bathed in sunlight, resting or dozing and looking impossibly serene and beautiful. 'Breathtaking' does not feel like too strong a word to use. Hector, with his skin scrubbed pink and his hair hanging wet around his face, feels shabby in his presence.
Hector watches him for a moment, free for once to look his fill at the other man. Then he clears his throat to break the hypnotic spell and return to whatever this experiment of theirs is.]
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[Alucard doesn't turn towards Hector, or even open his eyes. He remains in his seat, not quite a lazy dhampir, but taking this all in stride. It's a testament to...whatever the hell the relationship between them qualifies as, as it is not one of adversaries. That much has been evident for some time now.
Finally though, Alucard does open his eyes and cast a glance at Hector. The robe wasn't something he recalled putting in the bathroom, but it's purpose is clear enough.]
From here, I truly only smell the soap.
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[He’s unsettled by Alucard’s lack of reaction, but he tries to hide it. So he was caught staring. So what?
He crosses the room and takes a seat on the other end of the couch.]
I also didn’t come here to be sniffed from across the room. Smell me properly.
[There’s no way for this to not be awkward, so the best recourse is to just do it. Hector isn’t leaving until he has a definitive answer as to whether the scent of death can be scrubbed away.]
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[He loves the dog, what can he say? But there's no need to focus on that, not with Hector finally taking a seat. A part of Alucard, the bit that's a contrary, rude thing, surfaces.]
What, a part of the experiment doesn't include the distance it takes for me to notice the particular nuances of your scent? [Which is a valid scientific matter, Hector!]
Soap still, by the way. A little natural musk, everyone has it.
[But fine. To the point. Alucard inches down on the sofa until he's beside Hector, but not crowding the man either.]
Offer me your wrist, please?
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[Don't question his devotion to science, Alucard! Hector is already
nervousdistractedawkward as it is.He raises his hand and offers it, wrist turned upward, for Alucard.]
I feel like one of the ladies of the court, with perfume dabbed on my pulse points.
[He watches Alucard's face for a reaction.]
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[It's intimate without being overly so, and it allows a modicum of distance. Enough to hopefully ease the discomfort.
Alucard places one hand under Hector's wrist, gently guiding it to his nose. There's no snuffling about like a dog, or even getting his nose right up against the skin. Instead, Alucard holds Hector's wrist about half an inch away, and when he sniffs he tries to keep the noise as muted as possible.
Then he takes another whiff, this one a little louder.]
There's a faint hint of grave dirt here, but the soap and other smells mask it, mostly.
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So it really is a part of me...
[He could try to cover it up, but it will always be there, an inevitability. Was there ever any choice for him, or was he always destined to end up what he is now? How deep does the imprint of his power go, he wonders?
The thought takes root, and Hector knows he won't be able to put it aside. He meets Alucard's eyes, making a decision and going all in in the span of a single moment.]
I need you to do another test for me. Tell me what I taste like.
[He moves closer, disrupting all of Alucard's carefully maintained propriety.]
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[It's a calm explanation, all logic and thoughtfulness rather than utterances of destiny or--
--okay. That request takes Alucard by genuine surprise, his hand dropping Hector's wrist by accident. There's a little wide-eyeness to the dhampir.]
I....er.
Did you have a particular method of sampling in mind?
[Taste can be many things, including blood.]
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[He leans in, feeling more certain the closer he approaches. He doesn't mind the implications of what he is learning, he just needs to know for sure. Alucard's hesitance reminds him- tasting would mean something very different to a vampire that it would humans.]
You don't drink blood. I wouldn't ask that of you. You have two humans. I assume you have some clue as to other ways we could gather this data.
[In case Alucard is still confused, Hector closes the distance between them until their noses brush, close enough to share a single breath.]
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[Alucard doesn't correct Hector's you don't drink blood statement. Alucard does, just non-human blood and with less frequency than what a vampire needs. But as for the rest...
...six weeks. He's been alone and touch starved for six weeks, and that's the worst part of all of this. Alucard's learned how much he loves giving and receiving affection - a by product of watching his parents be so physically close whenever thy could be.
The rest is instinct, although it's still cautious. The press of Alucard's lips against Hector's is gentle. Chaste. Giving the other a chance to withdraw from all of this if he still so chooses.]
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Hector is not above killing two birds with one stone (not that he would ever kill a bird). He can find out more about his powers and kiss an impossibly handsome man who would normally be out of his reach. To waste this opportunity would be foolhardy.
Hector shifts, bumping his leg against Alucard as he draws in closer. Thorough testing is something every man of science can appreciate.]
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But oh, he deepens the kiss all the same. Moves one hand up to cup Hector's cheek, the other remaining on the sofa and grabbing at the fabric below. The bum of legs? Hell. Alucard moves a little closer, tucking his ankles closer against the edge of the sofa.]
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He is less cautious that Alucard, exploring with lips and tongue. He encounters fangs, which is a novel experience, and if there is a momentary prick of pain and the faint taste of copper, he barely notices in the onslaught of other sensations. Alucard's hand on his cheek is cooler than he would expect; the hair, when Hector reaches up to stroke back the stray golden strands tickling his face, is just as soft as he imagined it would be.
Drawing near to what he could feasibly write off as a test, Hector draws back. He hopes Alucard can't hear his heart's thumping.]
So...what's the verdict?
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But. Verdict. Yes, that, the thing that's important, not the loud noise of Alucard's heartbeat or Hector's.]
Human, mostly. [That sharp, wonderful bit of copper doesn't count.] Nothing of the grave. Just...a little bit of herbs.
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Is that conclusive?
[His tone, the fact that his leg is still pressed against Alucard's, the fingers twirling through golden hair...it should be pretty hard for Alucard to miss the implication that Hector is more than willing to go through some rigorous trials to be sure.]
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[
Why didn't he taste like spanikopitaHe leans back in, and this time the muted hesitation, the idea that Hector might need an out isn't there. Alucard's far faster, far more forthright, his hand no longer going to Hector's cheek but to his waist, gripping the fabric of the robe.
Still, he's cautious of fangs as he opens his own mouth against Hector's, angling everything just so.]
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Because no one in Wallachia is willing to invest the time in making some damned phyllo, that's why!Hector hums with delight as Alucard responds this time; it is not like the dhampir to tiptoe around so delicately. He leans his body back into the couch and hooks a finger in Alucard's collar to drag him along with Hector. He's not strong enough to actually move Alucard anywhere he doesn't want to be, but he can give him a suggestion of where he'd like him to be.
It would probably be smart to avoid the fangs, but when has Hector ever done the smart thing? He's curious, and curiosity is the driving force in his life. He wants to map out the length and width, to understand all the ways Alucard's bone structure differs from his own. He would very much like to keep kissing him for as long as he's allowed, but he can't help himself, like a moth drawn to candle light.]
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But he licks his way into Hector's mouth with a composed steadiness, plenty aware of his own fangs and where Trevor falls in relation to them. It's not unpleasant at all, but the sudden grab has thrown the vampire off balance. His palm rests just on the outside of Hector's thigh in order to support himself at the current angle, the other hand just behind Hector's head and dangling off the back of the couch.
Hector's hell bent on going for the fangs though. Alucard, if he could think right now, would glom onto why but that isn't happening. Thinking he means, because the only thing that's taking up his vision is Hector and--
--oh, that's definitely blood in Alucard's mouth.]
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Does it taste normal, he wonders?
The pain of the bleeding nick on his tongue gives him no pause, but the strengthening taste of copper finally does. He is forcing blood on one who prefers not to drink from humans. Hector is many things- careless, rude, impulsive- but he is not inclined to be cruel.
He lets out a sigh and turns his face away from Alucard's.]
...sorry....[He murmurs somewhere near Alucard's ear.]
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That's why I was moving slowly.
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Where's the fun in that?
[Here they both are, trying to catch their breath, neither backing down but both uncertain how to move forward.
Hector brushes Alucard's hair back behind his ear.]
Are you...are we finished gathering data?
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