[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...]
[No soggy bottoms allowed. Hector places the yogurt down and starts assembling the ingredients for the tzatziki.]
I prefer them crispy. It's what I grew up with.
[There is very little he remembers fondly of his childhood, but this memory, this preference remains.]
Did you have a chance to check on the lemons? I could fetch them while you finish those. I won't start on the sauce until you can give it your full attention.
[Hector takes up the two little lemons and squeezes one. It is more rind than fruit, but he can probably get enough juice.]
It'll be enough to help flavor the sauce. We can use oil as well.
[He takes a knife and starts peeling cucumbers. That step, he has full faith Alucard can manage on his own, so there's no need for him to wait so Alucard can observe it.]
Have you tried your pitas yet? Make at least a few whichever way you prefer them.
There should be some kind of grating device to your left in the cabinets below. If you believe adding some of the rind would help, then take advantage of it.
[Dracula invented the zester send tweet.]
In truth, I was biased towards crisp anyway.
[Sometimes a vampire just really likes to gnaw on something. It's good for the fangs, or so that's the lie Alucard's going with.
Regardless, he keeps going with the bread, having only four pitas left.]
[Well, might as well take advantage of all the technology the castle has to offer. Hector retrieves the tool from the cabinet and gives it a try. After attacking it from a couple of different directions, he falls into a rhythm.]
See, I told you that was the way to make them.
[Don't ever question his judgement again...on this one very limited context. Question just about every other life choice he makes.]
Basically, we need to grate the cucumber and mince the garlic, then it's just a matter of combining it all and letting it chill a little longer. We can switch off; I'll take garlic, you finish this.
[In deference to that super-human sense of smell, though he knows it won't hurt Alucard.]
I think there's a second if you'd like to take it with you.
[Alucard only lets out a snort-laugh at Hector's smugness on Proper Pita Preparation. On topics of food, it may be easier to yield to the necromancer. But only food.]
Are you offering to take the garlic because you're simply offering, or are you afraid I'll have an allergic reaction?
[Hector hands over a couple of large cloves. Alucard, don't kill yourself via garlic just to impress this loser.]
I am not one to skimp on garlic, but that is plenty for the size of the batch we're making. We don't want one element overwhelming it.
[He turns back to his grated cucumbers. Idiot. Hector is supposed to be instructing, not babysitting.
He gets to the end of the cucumber, and of course because he's more focused on keeping an eye on Alucard than on his task, he manages to nick his finger along with the last bit of cuke.]
[And make a point. Alucard goes about working with the garlic with no issue at all, seemingly all too content doing the work. He almost hums as he works.
A sudden sharp scent fills the air. Alucard's nostrils flare.]
Bandages are in the cabinet to your right. Second shelf. It'll be int he first aid kit.
[Yes, Hector can see how tough and not affected by vampire stereotypes Alucard is. He’ll be sun tanning next.
Hector sucks on his finger on the way to first aid kit, tasting cucumber and blood, at least he didn’t get any mixed in with the grated cucumber. Once he cleans the grater and throws that last bloody stump of the vegetable...and bandages his finger, a distant third concern...the damage will be undone.
He washes his hand and wraps up his finger with a little strip of cloth. There, good as new.]
Come watch this next step. It’s important. We need to drain the cucumber before we add it in.
Or maybe he'll just make a point of not reacting to the smell of blood in the air. Until Hector's back is turned. And he checks the grater for any blood.
Nope. He wasn't gonna lick it or anything that'd be gross.]
[Hector knows where the cloth is, and he grabs some on his way back. He lays it out and uses his non-injured hand to start transferring the grated pile over.]
We’re trying to get as much moisture out as we can do it doesn’t water down the sauce. Old Greek grandmas will tell you to drain it overnight, but this works just as well and doesn’t waste time.
[He gestures for Alucard to take the cloth. He’s got a bandage to keep dry.]
[It's nice, having someone who knows the kitchen so well. Alucard has seen Trevor and Sypha in the kitchen before, but they're not good for kitchen collaboration. Trevor will eat just about anything, and Sypha always makes far too much. It's understandable given their circumstances, but still. Annoying.
There's a laugh at the mention of Old Greek Grandmas though.]
Would salting it help too?
[All the same, Alucard takes the cloth and begins to wring the moisture out. There's a lot, and dhampir strength? That's super good at helping the process along as it turns out.]
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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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No soggy bottoms allowed.Hector places the yogurt down and starts assembling the ingredients for the tzatziki.]I prefer them crispy. It's what I grew up with.
[There is very little he remembers fondly of his childhood, but this memory, this preference remains.]
Did you have a chance to check on the lemons? I could fetch them while you finish those. I won't start on the sauce until you can give it your full attention.
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[Easy enough to do.
Alucard does pause though, and he motions to a little terra cotta bowl to his left. With two veeeery tiny lemons.]
I'm not sure that they'll be big enough, unfortunately, but I did try
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It'll be enough to help flavor the sauce. We can use oil as well.
[He takes a knife and starts peeling cucumbers. That step, he has full faith Alucard can manage on his own, so there's no need for him to wait so Alucard can observe it.]
Have you tried your pitas yet? Make at least a few whichever way you prefer them.
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[Dracula invented the zester send tweet.]
In truth, I was biased towards crisp anyway.
[Sometimes a vampire just really likes to gnaw on something. It's good for the fangs, or so that's the lie Alucard's going with.
Regardless, he keeps going with the bread, having only four pitas left.]
Once I'm done, what do you need next?
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[Well, might as well take advantage of all the technology the castle has to offer. Hector retrieves the tool from the cabinet and gives it a try. After attacking it from a couple of different directions, he falls into a rhythm.]
See, I told you that was the way to make them.
[Don't ever question his judgement again...on this one very limited context. Question just about every other life choice he makes.]
Basically, we need to grate the cucumber and mince the garlic, then it's just a matter of combining it all and letting it chill a little longer. We can switch off; I'll take garlic, you finish this.
[In deference to that super-human sense of smell, though he knows it won't hurt Alucard.]
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[Alucard only lets out a snort-laugh at Hector's smugness on Proper Pita Preparation. On topics of food, it may be easier to yield to the necromancer. But only food.]
Are you offering to take the garlic because you're simply offering, or are you afraid I'll have an allergic reaction?
[From Alucard's tone, that might be a joke.]
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grategreat.]What, do you think I'm the type to worry about you?
[Man, you kiss a guy and spend all evening petting him and suddenly all of your motives are in question...]
If you want to do the garlic, feel free....
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How many cloves then? Half a head?
[Alucard holds his hand out and wiggles his fingers. Give garlic plz and thank.]
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Alucard, don't kill yourself via garlic just to impress this loser.]I am not one to skimp on garlic, but that is plenty for the size of the batch we're making. We don't want one element overwhelming it.
[He turns back to his grated cucumbers. Idiot. Hector is supposed to be instructing, not babysitting.
He gets to the end of the cucumber, and of course because he's more focused on keeping an eye on Alucard than on his task, he manages to nick his finger along with the last bit of cuke.]
Fuck.
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[And make a point. Alucard goes about working with the garlic with no issue at all, seemingly all too content doing the work. He almost hums as he works.
A sudden sharp scent fills the air. Alucard's nostrils flare.]
Bandages are in the cabinet to your right. Second shelf. It'll be int he first aid kit.
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Hector sucks on his finger on the way to first aid kit, tasting cucumber and blood, at least he didn’t get any mixed in with the grated cucumber. Once he cleans the grater and throws that last bloody stump of the vegetable...and bandages his finger, a distant third concern...the damage will be undone.
He washes his hand and wraps up his finger with a little strip of cloth. There, good as new.]
Come watch this next step. It’s important. We need to drain the cucumber before we add it in.
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Or maybe he'll just make a point of not reacting to the smell of blood in the air. Until Hector's back is turned. And he checks the grater for any blood.
Nope. He wasn't gonna lick it or anything that'd be gross.]
Does that require cheese cloth or something else?
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[Hector knows where the cloth is, and he grabs some on his way back. He lays it out and uses his non-injured hand to start transferring the grated pile over.]
We’re trying to get as much moisture out as we can do it doesn’t water down the sauce. Old Greek grandmas will tell you to drain it overnight, but this works just as well and doesn’t waste time.
[He gestures for Alucard to take the cloth. He’s got a bandage to keep dry.]
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There's a laugh at the mention of Old Greek Grandmas though.]
Would salting it help too?
[All the same, Alucard takes the cloth and begins to wring the moisture out. There's a lot, and dhampir strength? That's super good at helping the process along as it turns out.]
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