Oh no cuddling a dog, how terrible. After a few steps, Alucard has no human shape at all. Instead he looks up at Hector with big wolfy eyes, and a soft huff means that whenever Hector's ready, they can get moving.]
[Hector takes his wine bottle and nods for the wolf to follow him. If memory serves, there is a sitting room nearby.
Once he can settle down for the long haul, Hector turns to the wolf and starts a nice two-handed behind-the-ear scratch. The fact that Alucard is a killing machine of fangs and claws gives Hector no pause. He is used to wild animals as pets, and he is practiced in giving them affection.]
Let me know if there's any spot in particular you like.
[His voice goes softer, more indulgent, when directed at an animal. He is consciously refraining from calling Alucard a good boy.]
[This is much safer in every way. Alucard tells himself that as he trots beside Hector, and as he flops down on the sofa next to him. There's far less awkward here, and no risk of another kiss. There's only extremely warm hands petting him, and for a touch starved dhampir, it feels wonderful.
His only response to Hector's offer is to make a content snuffle, not moving. Hector's petting in just the right spot.
I mean you can call him a good boy but i can't promise a good response....]
[Hector shifts a little, exploring how head-scratches and below-the-ear rubs are received. One doesn't pet a dog and stick to only one spot.]
Is your sense of smell stronger in this form?
[He asks without any expectation of an answer, to fill the silence. Not that Hector has any regrets about what happened earlier, but wolf-form might have been more practical for their sniff-test.
He doesn't know if information is perceived or retained differently when Alucard is wolfed out, but Hector will try to remember to ask about the grave-smell when Alucard is human again.]
As for the question, the wolf nods his head in the affirmative, before it settles down. It's nice, Alucard things, resting his head atop his paws and closing his eyes. Not a bad way to spend an evening at all.]
[Hector hums in acknowledgement of the nod. He slides his hands down to rub the scruff of the wolf's neck. Alucard seems pleased with everything so far, but who knows if he's been properly petted before? Hector has to show him everything so he can have a real idea of what he likes best.
He lets his mind wander while he pets, moving from neck to shoulder blades, scratching down the spine.]
You'll have to roll over if you want belly rubs.
[He murmurs like he would to Cesar or any of his other dogs. Most of his focus is on wondering if he can get the wine bottle open with one hand.]
No, those are Trevor and Sypha privileges. Alucard instead stays curled up where he is, with a very, very happy rumble coming when Hector goes for the scruff. There's something about that spot (no Alucard, it's because it's a neck you walking cliche) that's just very good.
[Hector runs a finger over the cork in the wine bottle, but he’s not going to be able to get it without two hands and a corkscrew. He sets the bottle on the couch beside him and returns to two-handed pats.
He works his way down the wolf’s back, stopping at the spot just above his tail, the returns to the head to focus on the areas Alucard seemed the most fond of. Ears, under the ears, neck scruff, repeat. It’s calming. This is how he spends a lot of evenings.]
If you spend too long like this, will you smell like wolf to other vampires?
[Alucard's pretty sure he can convince Hector not to drink all night if he's cute and fluffy enough. So that's the goal, all happy rumbles and soft little shifting moments to provide Hector the best access here.
But the scruff? Aw yeah, that's the real spot. Just stay there forever.
Hector's question causes the wolf to pick his head up, then tilt it back and forth. So-so. Kind of. With other stuff mixed in.]
...I suppose there are worse things you could smell like.
[And with that, Hector is back to petting. Alucard seems sold on the neck, so he focuses there. Wolves are tough, so he digs his fingers in deep, stronger than he is with Cesar or his other, more delicate animals.]
You ever tempted to just...stay a wolf? It seems far simpler.
[Hector isn't sure he wouldn't, if he had the option.]
[The question, about just being a wolf forever, gets an emphatic nod yes. Maybe a little too certain. It's hard, trying to elaborate in this form, but he tries to snuffle loudly for emphasis.
It is easier. Fewer dreams. Less complex thoughts. It is wonderful.
Just like the fingers in his scruff. There's a softer noise, and Alucard gives up. His head rests on Hector's leg.]
[Hector shifts and gets himself into a more comfortable lounging position on the couch, because let’s be real, this is his evening now.]
Good boy. [He murmurs reflexively, giving the wolf a scratch behind the ears as he settles back down.
If it didn’t cost anything, then why wasn’t Alucard a wolf more often?
...ah, the Belmont and the Speaker, and the weight of the castle placed upon his back like mythical Atlas.
Hector wouldn’t let himself get entangled in such things, but Alucard is an entirely different beast than he is.]
You’ll have to turn back in the morning. I’m teaching you how to make proper Greek food, not making it for you. And I’m not convinced a canine’s tastebuds are distinguishing enough to appreciate it. Never met a picky dog yet.
That gets a little wolfy laugh, coming out as an amused snuffle. He's quiet after that, so very content and ready to just call it a night. Because it has been a night, a strange one, and that's all that needs to be done.]
Mmmrrr.
[With that acknowledged, Alucard settles in, and soon enough, drifts off to sleep. If big paws pin Hector to the sofa, well, so be it. He'll be that way all evening, snoring softly and sometimes running in dreams. Nothing else comes.
In the morning, there's the smell of bread already baking when Hector rises. The wolf is gone. There's a dhampir in the kitchen, trying to make pita.]
[Hector isn't long in following the wolf into sleep, his strokes gradually slowing until his fingers rest still in the pale fur.
When he wakes, he brushes the stray hairs off of his clothes and stretches. He wanders into the kitchen and takes a moment to study the scene before he finally speaks up.]
I told you, stovetop is the way to go. Just because you can put them in the oven doesn't mean you should.
[He is, indeed, doing both. The stove has one lump of dough rising up, whereas Alucard appears to be using an early pizza peel with the oven, taking another pita out.]
[In that moment, Hector is struck by how alike Alucard is to his father...at least, the version that Hector had known first, who had sought Hector out in his seclusion just to know the truth behind the rumors about him.
He looks away and clears his throat. Maudlin this early in the day, and he didn’t even spend the evening before getting drunk.]
Fine. Do it how you wish. I’m going to check on our yogurt.
[There is an ache within him. Not for love of his former master, but of the sheer loss of his potential. Dracula could have been so much. Alucard could be so much, were he not shackled to his father’s ruins.]
Take half of one from each cooking method and let me know which one's better? I'll finish the rest of the dough by your preference.
[Perhaps he yells it into the fire as he removes another pita. But all the same, the concentration means he misses the way Hector looks away. How his words sound.]
[Hector ducks into the alcove where Dracula kept his strange ice box. He takes a deep, steadying breath, then pulls out the bowl of chilling yogurt.
Gods, he has so many more feelings about Dracula than he does his own parents.
He gives the yogurt a quick stir, silently declares that it is coming along nicely, then returns to the main kitchen area with, hopefully, no sign of any unsightly emotions.]
Alright, let me see...
[He assesses a sampling from both groups. Pockets achieved in each...a uniform color on the oven-baked, some crisp dark spots on the stove-baked for extra texture.... Of course Alucard would have to pick this up like he does everything else, the smug, infuriating bastard.
...so like his father...]
They are both good. It’s a matter of personal preference whether you prefer them soft or crisp.
{Alucard sniffs at the air as Hector departs. The smell isn't terribly strong, but the yogurt has only aged over night. Besides, that's not the point. The cucumber is the point.
Paul Hollywood's Hector's return comes with a dhampir who watches the entire matter progress. He leans in a little, intrigued. Wanting the judgement and...]
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Alucard doesn't begrudge Hector the wine. Instead he focuses on cleaning off his hands, and contemplating well, snack options all things considered.]
Reading. Housework, as there's many more repairs left to do. Cataloging in the Belmont Hold. Running with the local wolf pack.
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It would totally be an option if it was up to Hector.He sighs.]
Anything I can help with? I am not good at sitting quietly to pass the time.
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Pretty sure Trevor would veto that one, sorry buddy]Would be better if I was a wolf?
[He's offering to let Hector pet the woof.]
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Hopefully Trevor has no objections to an evening of heavy petting.Of course, the danger here is Hector is going to cuddle up with a big fluff and spend the evening drinking and petting.]
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[
He probably doesOh no cuddling a dog, how terrible. After a few steps, Alucard has no human shape at all. Instead he looks up at Hector with big wolfy eyes, and a soft huff means that whenever Hector's ready, they can get moving.]
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Once he can settle down for the long haul, Hector turns to the wolf and starts a nice two-handed behind-the-ear scratch. The fact that Alucard is a killing machine of fangs and claws gives Hector no pause. He is used to wild animals as pets, and he is practiced in giving them affection.]
Let me know if there's any spot in particular you like.
[His voice goes softer, more indulgent, when directed at an animal. He is consciously refraining from calling Alucard a good boy.]
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His only response to Hector's offer is to make a content snuffle, not moving. Hector's petting in just the right spot.
I mean you can call him a good boy but i can't promise a good response....]no subject
Is your sense of smell stronger in this form?
[He asks without any expectation of an answer, to fill the silence. Not that Hector has any regrets about what happened earlier, but wolf-form might have been more practical for their sniff-test.
He doesn't know if information is perceived or retained differently when Alucard is wolfed out, but Hector will try to remember to ask about the grave-smell when Alucard is human again.]
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As for the question, the wolf nods his head in the affirmative, before it settles down. It's nice, Alucard things, resting his head atop his paws and closing his eyes. Not a bad way to spend an evening at all.]
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He lets his mind wander while he pets, moving from neck to shoulder blades, scratching down the spine.]
You'll have to roll over if you want belly rubs.
[He murmurs like he would to Cesar or any of his other dogs. Most of his focus is on wondering if he can get the wine bottle open with one hand.]
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No, those are Trevor and Sypha privileges. Alucard instead stays curled up where he is, with a very, very happy rumble coming when Hector goes for the scruff. There's something about that spot (no Alucard, it's because it's a neck you walking cliche) that's just very good.
A happy snuffle follows. More please.]
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He works his way down the wolf’s back, stopping at the spot just above his tail, the returns to the head to focus on the areas Alucard seemed the most fond of. Ears, under the ears, neck scruff, repeat. It’s calming. This is how he spends a lot of evenings.]
If you spend too long like this, will you smell like wolf to other vampires?
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But the scruff? Aw yeah, that's the real spot. Just stay there forever.
Hector's question causes the wolf to pick his head up, then tilt it back and forth. So-so. Kind of. With other stuff mixed in.]
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[And with that, Hector is back to petting. Alucard seems sold on the neck, so he focuses there. Wolves are tough, so he digs his fingers in deep, stronger than he is with Cesar or his other, more delicate animals.]
You ever tempted to just...stay a wolf? It seems far simpler.
[Hector isn't sure he wouldn't, if he had the option.]
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It is easier. Fewer dreams. Less complex thoughts. It is wonderful.
Just like the fingers in his scruff. There's a softer noise, and Alucard gives up. His head rests on Hector's leg.]
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[Hector nods, not needing any more explanation than that. He is of the same opinion.]
Does it take energy to maintain the form?
[He curls himself up on the couch as much as he can without moving the leg Alucard is using as a pillow.]
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Alucard pauses, lifting his head up to let Hector readjust properly and finish getting comfy.]
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Good boy. [He murmurs reflexively, giving the wolf a scratch behind the ears as he settles back down.
If it didn’t cost anything, then why wasn’t Alucard a wolf more often?
...ah, the Belmont and the Speaker, and the weight of the castle placed upon his back like mythical Atlas.
Hector wouldn’t let himself get entangled in such things, but Alucard is an entirely different beast than he is.]
You’ll have to turn back in the morning. I’m teaching you how to make proper Greek food, not making it for you. And I’m not convinced a canine’s tastebuds are distinguishing enough to appreciate it. Never met a picky dog yet.
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That gets a little wolfy laugh, coming out as an amused snuffle. He's quiet after that, so very content and ready to just call it a night. Because it has been a night, a strange one, and that's all that needs to be done.]
Mmmrrr.
[With that acknowledged, Alucard settles in, and soon enough, drifts off to sleep. If big paws pin Hector to the sofa, well, so be it. He'll be that way all evening, snoring softly and sometimes running in dreams. Nothing else comes.
In the morning, there's the smell of bread already baking when Hector rises. The wolf is gone. There's a dhampir in the kitchen, trying to make pita.]
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When he wakes, he brushes the stray hairs off of his clothes and stretches. He wanders into the kitchen and takes a moment to study the scene before he finally speaks up.]
I told you, stovetop is the way to go. Just because you can put them in the oven doesn't mean you should.
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[He is, indeed, doing both. The stove has one lump of dough rising up, whereas Alucard appears to be using an early pizza peel with the oven, taking another pita out.]
I wanted to see which was more effective myself.
[Son of A SCIENCE NERD.]
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He looks away and clears his throat. Maudlin this early in the day, and he didn’t even spend the evening before getting drunk.]
Fine. Do it how you wish. I’m going to check on our yogurt.
[There is an ache within him. Not for love of his former master, but of the sheer loss of his potential. Dracula could have been so much. Alucard could be so much, were he not shackled to his father’s ruins.]
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[Perhaps he yells it into the fire as he removes another pita. But all the same, the concentration means he misses the way Hector looks away. How his words sound.]
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Gods, he has so many more feelings about Dracula than he does his own parents.
He gives the yogurt a quick stir, silently declares that it is coming along nicely, then returns to the main kitchen area with, hopefully, no sign of any unsightly emotions.]
Alright, let me see...
[He assesses a sampling from both groups. Pockets achieved in each...a uniform color on the oven-baked, some crisp dark spots on the stove-baked for extra texture.... Of course Alucard would have to pick this up like he does everything else, the smug, infuriating bastard.
...so like his father...]
They are both good. It’s a matter of personal preference whether you prefer them soft or crisp.
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Paul Hollywood'sHector's return comes with a dhampir who watches the entire matter progress. He leans in a little, intrigued. Wanting the judgement and...]Well, what's yours? Preference I mean.
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