[ Fine. If he isn't going to finish his fucking bandage errand, then Trevor's sick of stalling. With a flick of his wrist, the whip is suddenly flying toward Alucard. ]
[It isn't an artful dodge. Actually, it isn't a dodge at all.
Alucard only steps back, letting the whip graze him. It'll hurt, yes, but he's dealt with this weapon before. He can anticipate the pain, and sure enough, his wrist bears the brunt of the pain.
But nothing hurts.
One couldn't tell that from Alucard's face though, as there is pain there. Pain and--]
Belmont.
[There's more weight in that surname now. It's coupled with something that's about to break.]
[ Everything is so, so distant. Everything is always distant. If it weren't for his enhanced senses there would be nothing at all.
Footsteps. The scraping of a chair. ]
Well. Fancy seeing you down here.
[ It's muffled. But then the temperature and humidity changes that tiniest little bit. The coffin's lid has been opened. The next time the voice speaks, it's clearer. ]
It's been a while since I came to visit you. I'm sorry. I've been- away from home.
[ The smell of blood. Clotted and masked by the smell of disinfectant and clean linen. Dressings changed within the last few hours. Fingers brush over Alucard's cheek, through his hair, curling a lock of it around a little finger. A laugh. Warm. Tired. So very, very tired. ]
Look at you, all whole again. The speakers looked over you while I was away, you know. It's safe to release the spell now.
[ The smells, all of them - the clotted blood and the clean linen and the disinfectant and the damp leaves and dirt under fingernails and candied hazelnuts and nothing else for whatever meal was last and wet dogs and dry dogs - all of them draw closer. There's warmth, a weight above Alucard. And as lips brush against his, everything is perfectly clear. The magic's hold loosens, begins to release him.
And then, the clearer things go, the clearer one more smell becomes. Fainter, hidden in among all the others. It's sweet in a more sinister way than the candied nuts, the horrible cloying sweetness of rot. It's there, mixed in with the blood. He could map out every capillary in her body by the smell of it alone, follow its spread. Follow it to the brain, too firmly rooted there to be moved.
The answer, the horrible answer, almost comes to him. But the body protects the mind, and the spell fortifies the body. The smells vanish. The voices vanish. The last sensation is the lips leaving his, and then there is nothing.
By the time sound returns, the voices are different. The same accents on different people. The smells of different dogs. Nobody lifts the coffin's lid. ]
[ Don't ask him questions when he's trying to kill you! Rude! He almost doesn't answer and just attacks again, but then he looks down the whip. The whip that's coiled itself harmlessly around Alucard's wrist. ]
-you knew her. Shit. You knew her.
[ The anger doesn't melt away, but something replaces it. He doesn't quite know what. ]
Let me- shit. Let me sit down. I'll kill you once you know.
How do you think my father was defeated in their time, Belmont?
[Alucard can feel the rawness of mourning threatening to take over in full. He's dodged so much of it already, mostly by circumstance. The days have been so busy that when he's slept, his mind has been quiet. Ignoring the guilt of patricide and the regret of lost love.
That goddamn spell. He could have healed without it. Maybe it wouldn't have happened. Maybe...
I don't fucking know. Apparently most of it was made up.
[ He flicks his wrist, trying to uncoil the whip from around Alucard's wrist. it resists, just for a moment, and then falls to the ground. As does he, gracelessly, letting his legs buckle under his weight and drop him butt-first into the grass. ]
She was turned. Usually the dogs catch it in time, but it started in the brain. There's no way to avert that, even now, no matter how early it's caught.
[ He places the whip in the grass. It's similar to Juliet's own. The leather slightly darker. A small rabbit etched into the handle, opposite the family crest. ]
This is what we do, if that happens. What we've always done. We prepare them when we're young and just- keep them around. I have one for myself in case the worst happens, not that there's anyone for it to be any use to.
She wants to add that you're being an idiot by the way.
[The attempt at humor falls so flat. And that's for the better, because Trevor's words gut the vampire at the core. He doesn't fall. He doesn't sit, or do anything for a long, unending moment of silence. He simply feels every inch of his body twist inside, tighter and tigether.
The brain.
How the fuck did it start in the brain?
No. Happier in ignorance.
A long exhale finally happens. When he speaks, Alucard's voice cracks.]
I know- I know it's a couple centuries late, but I'm sorry for your loss.
[ He could tell Alucard more, give him a name, but Bluebeard is well known even among humans. Even if it was a few years both before and after his time, he can investigate. Giving him Bluebeards name may as well be giving him every grisly detail. ]
I- fuck. Look, I still kind of want to kill you. But since the whip isn't fucking cooperating and I didn't bring a sword, I can't. Let me rethink that 'doing this once I'm healed up' thing?
[There's just an awful little shrug from the vampire. A noise of acknowledgement that Trevor's said something, but no real response. He has no desire to use words to reply. Or look Trevor in the eye. Or do just about anything else that isn't becoming a wolf again.
A wolf who walks in the opposite direction of Trevor.
He should, he should make sure that Trevor gets back to the castle safely before doing anything else. But grief is an all consuming thing, and it has hit like a tidal wave. He's already drowning. Better to drown alone than drag another down with him.]
[ Should he follow? He hasn't been invited to. And he's still furious, even if that fury is tempered by all of this. And he should probably get back to the castle before Sypha realises he's gone and does something else stupid.
He stands. ]
Wait.
[ He's struggling as he hobbles after Alucard, but he can keep pace as long as the wolf is walking rather than running. ]
[ He catches up and reaches out, resting a hand on Alucard's wolf head. ]
-I don't want you to be alone right now. I want you dead, not miserable. Let me- [ ugh, emotions are hard. He sinks to the ground, kneeling and wrapping his arms around Alucard's neck in a weird, uncomfortable hug. ] -let me stay with you.
It's instinct now. Trevor's made no point in hiding a desire to kill the vampire. He needs to be away. Somewhere that he can be alone with his grief.
He stiffens when Trevor's arms wrap around him. It is absolute a weird and uncomfortable hug. Every part of Alucard wants to pull away, save for the little part of him that realizes that Trevor still sees some kind of connection that Alucard embodies. He should respect that.
But also fuck him.
So he stays still. A better statue now than when he was in the damn coffin.]
[ His arms shift, just a little. Wrapping something around Alucard. And then there are other arms, slightly thinner, wrapping around him from the other side. A warm weight against his back. A face with no stubble burying itself in his fur.
It's the whip. Coiled about his neck. Trevor ties it, then lets go of Alucard entirely. the weight and the thinner arms remain. He scoots back a little. ]
Like I said before. Take care of whatever you need to do. Then come back so I can kill you.
[The wolf doesn't know if he should take the whip. It feels wrong, and as good and warm and wonderful as the invisible arms around him are, it'll be worse if he has that embrace. Mourning means saying good bye properly, and so after a moment more, he gently paws at the whip. Trevor shouldn't be without it.
Then he goes. He runs at the speed only vampires can move at, not caring where his feet take him. Only that he is gone, and perhaps now, he should stay that way. What's left for him anyway? A ruined castle of wrecked memories. The scion of a family that save for a single generation, would have killed him anyway. Sypha has already taken command of the castle, and maybe that's better too. Safer. The world has moved on. He isn't needed anymore.
He is a wolf or a bat as he retreats into nature. Finds good places to hide. Where his howls will disturb no humans, and where there are no other wolves who will see him is a threat. Or else as a bat he curls up on himself so tightly that he might as well combust.
But it is easier. No matter what, it is easier. Their brains are smaller. It's easier to process, and so he stays in these forms. Drinks from animals when he must. Ignores the concern that ripples out from the castle every so often. Really ignores it when the castle tells him to come back.
He's moved so far. He's run almost every day, further and further from the castle.
To one of the attempts at summons, he only replies You don't need me and mutes the connection.]
[ She pushes past Alucard, reaching out with a lack of caution that's unusual for her and dangerous in a place like this. It's a secret room, one that had clearly been bricked off centuries ago but that Dracula's rampage though his own home has revealed. ]
-it really is!
[ There is a single thing in the centre of the small room. An ornate reliquary of gold and crystal glass, and inside it- ]
The Morning Star! The Morning Star! It's been here, all along? Why on earth would-
[ No, she's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. She turns around, gleeful, reaching out for Alucard's hands. ]
Adrian. I think- I think we can do this. This has to be a sign- we're not going to die here.
The castle moves, and Trevor doesn't care. It takes Sypha a few days to get the truth out of him, and she's furious with both of them, and Trevor doesn't care. She's too lonely to give anyone the silent treatment for long, and Trevor tries to care. She breaks down in frustration when he doesn't respond to her calls, and Trevor cares.
It's a little like kissing fire, save for that there's no lasting burn. It's painful and he can swear he feels his skin blister but it doesn't. It's probably a good thing that she's still furious enough with him that they don't kiss often. Only when she's lonely and afraid.
Alucard doesn't return, and Trevor doesn't care. Perhaps it's better that way. He doesn't have to kill him.
They work. Trevor goes out - Sypha can't leave the castle like this - to gather information and they pour over it together. Sightings of Spring Heel in new places, spreading further and further outward from London's centre. A few incidents with night creatures trying to take the castle that are dealt with soundly.
And then Sypha falls ill. It's not dramatic, not from a physical point of view. She starts referring to herself as 'we' instead of 'I'. The spinning thing that is her heart slows, moving in short and predictable beats as a human heart might instead of spinning.
But through the connection, it's clearer. Sypha's voice and the castle's are no longer separable. Her thoughts in the summons are muddled. She would probably never refer to Alucard as my princein a non-sexy setting. Something is wrong. Something is going very wrong, and if it is reversible if may not be for long. ]
He tells that to every memory that surfaces. A generation that was an exception, not a rule. Every Belmont would want him dead if they truly understood who he was, and maybe it's a miracle none of them figured it out before.
But he's better off alone. He was alone for centuries in that fucking box.
It becomes harder to ignore the castle. Not when there's a flood of pain in the connection, and not when things blur. It was always a possibility, that happening. But it's only taken a month. A month and Alucard considers with an awful, glum certainty that this must be it for the castle too. That they'll seperate and his home will die.
Fuck.
He goes back. He goes back because his mother could never forgive him if he didn't. Not if he left someone innocent suffer. Not if he let someone die when he could have prevented it.
But he returns as a bat. He hasn't been human for a month, and he has no desire to be a human again until required.
There's a window open. Alucard glides in, knowing that this is the room where Sypha is. The window would not be open otherwise.]
[ It's just a little dizziness, she says, but her fingertips are icy cold and that thing in her heart is burning hot. Trevor lays her down in their bed, stroking her hair until she sleeps, and then leaves.
The castle is about day's walk from London proper, far enough out from the city and well enough hidden that the appearance of a new building hasn't brought suspicion yet. But it means that gathering information is a task that takes multiple days. He doesn't like leaving Sypha alone while she's unwell, but- shit, they need to find a building that the castle can inhabit and they need to do it soon. He might not understand the severity of her illness, but he can tell that the castle's heart is fucking with her.
It means that Sypha is alone in the castle when Alucard enters. There's the sensation of the entire castle tensing, preparing to defend her from attack, but then it recognises him. That it took so long is probably a concern in itself.
It's easier to tell the differences seeing them all at once rather than watching her change gradually over a month. She's more gaunt than she was. The glowing red stuff that makes up the edges of her body where it cuts off to reveal the heart is black now, like cooled lava rather than molten. The heart has grown to about a half again its size.
It's consuming her. It's going to eat her to survive, and then there'll be nowhere for it to find shelter and it'll wither away and die. It knows the consequences and yet it can no more stop itself from doing this than a flame can stop itself from burning down a candle. ]
[Alucard addresses it directly. Not Sypha. Just castle.]
You can't use a human as kindling. You know that. You did it as a temporary measure, but you know this isn't sustainable and you know my mother would be furious at you. Rightly so.
[His eyes are not on Sypha. They are on the walls around her.]
I am more infinite than she is. What would a transfer require?
[It's the cold calmness of his father that Alucard focuses on. It's easier than reacting to the state of Sypha right now. He's trying to treat her as a patient, just a body, rather than a person. Easier that way. Harder to care.]
[ It’s an odd sensation, the castle reaching out to touch Alucard. Nothing actually does physically contact him, and yet the sensation is there nonetheless. Then comes the answer, a stream of information. The castle doesn’t speak in words, Alucard just starts knowing things that he didn’t before.
Too small. The bat would be too small to contain it. Even as a man or wolf, he doesn’t have the sheer willpower that Sypha does. Not enough to sustain it for more than a few days. It wouldn’t burn him away the way it’s doing to Sypha, but it would starve after a week or less. It needs a body again. A building. And to be sustained with magic until if can recover. ]
[Alucard sighs. He then sits himself down on the ground, putting both palms on the floor. There's an awful thought there, that perhaps it's best to let the castle go now, and that brings a fresh round of ache.
Too small.
They need another building. They need it now. But if he can buy a week then he'll buy a week and at least Sypha has the time to recover.]
Castle, what do you want after all this time?
[It is a living breathing thing. It must have it's own thoughts on the matter, and it'd be easier to give heed to them.]
[ There's a long silence. It's not something that the castle's ever been asked before, not even by Dracula himself.
A flood of information follows. It wants so many conflicting things. It wants its first master back. It wants whatever monsters were used as its building materials released to terrorise the world of humanity once again. It wants to once more serve something great and feared and powerful, to be a symbol of terror, to command subservience to its master in whatever helpless fool sees it looming above.
But there are other things it wants. Deeper things. Things that can't be heard over the deluge of monstrous things until they repeat so much that they fade into the background and the quieter things can be picked out.
It wants to be something great in this new age, and it doesn't care whether that comes from terrorising humanity or serving it. It wants the books in its libraries to be read and their knowledge used to help people or to destroy them. It wants the equipment in its laboratories at work brewing medicines or poisons. It wants to be a home again, else it wants to be an engine of war again.
Its first master wanted it to be a symbol of terror. Its second, in her brief time with it, wanted it to be a symbol of hope. It doesn't mind which it becomes, so long as it can be one of them. ]
[In all of this, Alucard understands one important point. The most important. The one that makes everything harder. The castle wants to live. To keep existing. To be. And God if it wouldn't be easier if it wanted to rest now, rest like Alucard does. They could both fade away, and trouble the Belmont and the Speaker no more.
Alucard sighs. Runs his hands over the stone floor, and doesn't even pretend to be surprised when silent tears hit the floor.]
I don't know if I can give you any of those things. I doubt I can give anything at all now.
[ The speaker's eyes are still closed when she stands, placing a hand softly on Alucard's head. The castle can try to offer comfort, right now. It has the capacity. It has the speaker's memories and knows what comfort is. ]
I wish to be what I was. [ It's using Sypha's voice, but Sypha would never have such difficulties with words. It pauses between each one, struggling to speak in a human tongue. ] At your side or at your father's.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ Fine. If he isn't going to finish his fucking bandage errand, then Trevor's sick of stalling. With a flick of his wrist, the whip is suddenly flying toward Alucard. ]
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Alucard only steps back, letting the whip graze him. It'll hurt, yes, but he's dealt with this weapon before. He can anticipate the pain, and sure enough, his wrist bears the brunt of the pain.
But nothing hurts.
One couldn't tell that from Alucard's face though, as there is pain there. Pain and--]
Belmont.
[There's more weight in that surname now. It's coupled with something that's about to break.]
Your great-many-times over-Juliet. What happened?
[Alucard knows. But he needs to say it out loud.]
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Footsteps. The scraping of a chair. ]
Well. Fancy seeing you down here.
[ It's muffled. But then the temperature and humidity changes that tiniest little bit. The coffin's lid has been opened. The next time the voice speaks, it's clearer. ]
It's been a while since I came to visit you. I'm sorry. I've been- away from home.
[ The smell of blood. Clotted and masked by the smell of disinfectant and clean linen. Dressings changed within the last few hours. Fingers brush over Alucard's cheek, through his hair, curling a lock of it around a little finger. A laugh. Warm. Tired. So very, very tired. ]
Look at you, all whole again. The speakers looked over you while I was away, you know. It's safe to release the spell now.
[ The smells, all of them - the clotted blood and the clean linen and the disinfectant and the damp leaves and dirt under fingernails and candied hazelnuts and nothing else for whatever meal was last and wet dogs and dry dogs - all of them draw closer. There's warmth, a weight above Alucard. And as lips brush against his, everything is perfectly clear. The magic's hold loosens, begins to release him.
And then, the clearer things go, the clearer one more smell becomes. Fainter, hidden in among all the others. It's sweet in a more sinister way than the candied nuts, the horrible cloying sweetness of rot. It's there, mixed in with the blood. He could map out every capillary in her body by the smell of it alone, follow its spread. Follow it to the brain, too firmly rooted there to be moved.
The answer, the horrible answer, almost comes to him. But the body protects the mind, and the spell fortifies the body. The smells vanish. The voices vanish. The last sensation is the lips leaving his, and then there is nothing.
By the time sound returns, the voices are different. The same accents on different people. The smells of different dogs. Nobody lifts the coffin's lid. ]
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[ Don't ask him questions when he's trying to kill you! Rude! He almost doesn't answer and just attacks again, but then he looks down the whip. The whip that's coiled itself harmlessly around Alucard's wrist. ]
-you knew her. Shit. You knew her.
[ The anger doesn't melt away, but something replaces it. He doesn't quite know what. ]
Let me- shit. Let me sit down. I'll kill you once you know.
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[Alucard can feel the rawness of mourning threatening to take over in full. He's dodged so much of it already, mostly by circumstance. The days have been so busy that when he's slept, his mind has been quiet. Ignoring the guilt of patricide and the regret of lost love.
That goddamn spell. He could have healed without it. Maybe it wouldn't have happened. Maybe...
...fuck. Now everything hurts.]
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[ He flicks his wrist, trying to uncoil the whip from around Alucard's wrist. it resists, just for a moment, and then falls to the ground. As does he, gracelessly, letting his legs buckle under his weight and drop him butt-first into the grass. ]
She was turned. Usually the dogs catch it in time, but it started in the brain. There's no way to avert that, even now, no matter how early it's caught.
[ He places the whip in the grass. It's similar to Juliet's own. The leather slightly darker. A small rabbit etched into the handle, opposite the family crest. ]
This is what we do, if that happens. What we've always done. We prepare them when we're young and just- keep them around. I have one for myself in case the worst happens, not that there's anyone for it to be any use to.
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[The attempt at humor falls so flat. And that's for the better, because Trevor's words gut the vampire at the core. He doesn't fall. He doesn't sit, or do anything for a long, unending moment of silence. He simply feels every inch of his body twist inside, tighter and tigether.
The brain.
How the fuck did it start in the brain?
No. Happier in ignorance.
A long exhale finally happens. When he speaks, Alucard's voice cracks.]
That damned spell.
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[ He could tell Alucard more, give him a name, but Bluebeard is well known even among humans. Even if it was a few years both before and after his time, he can investigate. Giving him Bluebeards name may as well be giving him every grisly detail. ]
I- fuck. Look, I still kind of want to kill you. But since the whip isn't fucking cooperating and I didn't bring a sword, I can't. Let me rethink that 'doing this once I'm healed up' thing?
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A wolf who walks in the opposite direction of Trevor.
He should, he should make sure that Trevor gets back to the castle safely before doing anything else. But grief is an all consuming thing, and it has hit like a tidal wave. He's already drowning. Better to drown alone than drag another down with him.]
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He stands. ]
Wait.
[ He's struggling as he hobbles after Alucard, but he can keep pace as long as the wolf is walking rather than running. ]
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A low, unhappy growl comes with that.
What?]
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[ He catches up and reaches out, resting a hand on Alucard's wolf head. ]
-I don't want you to be alone right now. I want you dead, not miserable. Let me- [ ugh, emotions are hard. He sinks to the ground, kneeling and wrapping his arms around Alucard's neck in a weird, uncomfortable hug. ] -let me stay with you.
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It's instinct now. Trevor's made no point in hiding a desire to kill the vampire. He needs to be away. Somewhere that he can be alone with his grief.
He stiffens when Trevor's arms wrap around him. It is absolute a weird and uncomfortable hug. Every part of Alucard wants to pull away, save for the little part of him that realizes that Trevor still sees some kind of connection that Alucard embodies. He should respect that.
But also fuck him.
So he stays still. A better statue now than when he was in the damn coffin.]
no subject
[ His arms shift, just a little. Wrapping something around Alucard. And then there are other arms, slightly thinner, wrapping around him from the other side. A warm weight against his back. A face with no stubble burying itself in his fur.
It's the whip. Coiled about his neck. Trevor ties it, then lets go of Alucard entirely. the weight and the thinner arms remain. He scoots back a little. ]
Like I said before. Take care of whatever you need to do. Then come back so I can kill you.
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Then he goes. He runs at the speed only vampires can move at, not caring where his feet take him. Only that he is gone, and perhaps now, he should stay that way. What's left for him anyway? A ruined castle of wrecked memories. The scion of a family that save for a single generation, would have killed him anyway. Sypha has already taken command of the castle, and maybe that's better too. Safer. The world has moved on. He isn't needed anymore.
He is a wolf or a bat as he retreats into nature. Finds good places to hide. Where his howls will disturb no humans, and where there are no other wolves who will see him is a threat. Or else as a bat he curls up on himself so tightly that he might as well combust.
But it is easier. No matter what, it is easier. Their brains are smaller. It's easier to process, and so he stays in these forms. Drinks from animals when he must. Ignores the concern that ripples out from the castle every so often. Really ignores it when the castle tells him to come back.
He's moved so far. He's run almost every day, further and further from the castle.
To one of the attempts at summons, he only replies You don't need me and mutes the connection.]
no subject
[ She pushes past Alucard, reaching out with a lack of caution that's unusual for her and dangerous in a place like this. It's a secret room, one that had clearly been bricked off centuries ago but that Dracula's rampage though his own home has revealed. ]
-it really is!
[ There is a single thing in the centre of the small room. An ornate reliquary of gold and crystal glass, and inside it- ]
The Morning Star! The Morning Star! It's been here, all along? Why on earth would-
[ No, she's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. She turns around, gleeful, reaching out for Alucard's hands. ]
Adrian. I think- I think we can do this. This has to be a sign- we're not going to die here.
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The castle moves, and Trevor doesn't care. It takes Sypha a few days to get the truth out of him, and she's furious with both of them, and Trevor doesn't care. She's too lonely to give anyone the silent treatment for long, and Trevor tries to care. She breaks down in frustration when he doesn't respond to her calls, and Trevor cares.
It's a little like kissing fire, save for that there's no lasting burn. It's painful and he can swear he feels his skin blister but it doesn't. It's probably a good thing that she's still furious enough with him that they don't kiss often. Only when she's lonely and afraid.
Alucard doesn't return, and Trevor doesn't care. Perhaps it's better that way. He doesn't have to kill him.
They work. Trevor goes out - Sypha can't leave the castle like this - to gather information and they pour over it together. Sightings of Spring Heel in new places, spreading further and further outward from London's centre. A few incidents with night creatures trying to take the castle that are dealt with soundly.
And then Sypha falls ill. It's not dramatic, not from a physical point of view. She starts referring to herself as 'we' instead of 'I'. The spinning thing that is her heart slows, moving in short and predictable beats as a human heart might instead of spinning.
But through the connection, it's clearer. Sypha's voice and the castle's are no longer separable. Her thoughts in the summons are muddled. She would probably never refer to Alucard as my prince
in a non-sexy setting. Something is wrong. Something is going very wrong, and if it is reversible if may not be for long. ]no subject
He tells that to every memory that surfaces. A generation that was an exception, not a rule. Every Belmont would want him dead if they truly understood who he was, and maybe it's a miracle none of them figured it out before.
But he's better off alone. He was alone for centuries in that fucking box.
It becomes harder to ignore the castle. Not when there's a flood of pain in the connection, and not when things blur. It was always a possibility, that happening. But it's only taken a month. A month and Alucard considers with an awful, glum certainty that this must be it for the castle too. That they'll seperate and his home will die.
Fuck.
He goes back. He goes back because his mother could never forgive him if he didn't. Not if he left someone innocent suffer. Not if he let someone die when he could have prevented it.
But he returns as a bat. He hasn't been human for a month, and he has no desire to be a human again until required.
There's a window open. Alucard glides in, knowing that this is the room where Sypha is. The window would not be open otherwise.]
no subject
The castle is about day's walk from London proper, far enough out from the city and well enough hidden that the appearance of a new building hasn't brought suspicion yet. But it means that gathering information is a task that takes multiple days. He doesn't like leaving Sypha alone while she's unwell, but- shit, they need to find a building that the castle can inhabit and they need to do it soon. He might not understand the severity of her illness, but he can tell that the castle's heart is fucking with her.
It means that Sypha is alone in the castle when Alucard enters. There's the sensation of the entire castle tensing, preparing to defend her from attack, but then it recognises him. That it took so long is probably a concern in itself.
It's easier to tell the differences seeing them all at once rather than watching her change gradually over a month. She's more gaunt than she was. The glowing red stuff that makes up the edges of her body where it cuts off to reveal the heart is black now, like cooled lava rather than molten. The heart has grown to about a half again its size.
It's consuming her. It's going to eat her to survive, and then there'll be nowhere for it to find shelter and it'll wither away and die. It knows the consequences and yet it can no more stop itself from doing this than a flame can stop itself from burning down a candle. ]
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[Alucard addresses it directly. Not Sypha. Just castle.]
You can't use a human as kindling. You know that. You did it as a temporary measure, but you know this isn't sustainable and you know my mother would be furious at you. Rightly so.
[His eyes are not on Sypha. They are on the walls around her.]
I am more infinite than she is. What would a transfer require?
[It's the cold calmness of his father that Alucard focuses on. It's easier than reacting to the state of Sypha right now. He's trying to treat her as a patient, just a body, rather than a person. Easier that way. Harder to care.]
no subject
Too small. The bat would be too small to contain it. Even as a man or wolf, he doesn’t have the sheer willpower that Sypha does. Not enough to sustain it for more than a few days. It wouldn’t burn him away the way it’s doing to Sypha, but it would starve after a week or less. It needs a body again. A building. And to be sustained with magic until if can recover. ]
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Too small.
They need another building. They need it now. But if he can buy a week then he'll buy a week and at least Sypha has the time to recover.]
Castle, what do you want after all this time?
[It is a living breathing thing. It must have it's own thoughts on the matter, and it'd be easier to give heed to them.]
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A flood of information follows. It wants so many conflicting things. It wants its first master back. It wants whatever monsters were used as its building materials released to terrorise the world of humanity once again. It wants to once more serve something great and feared and powerful, to be a symbol of terror, to command subservience to its master in whatever helpless fool sees it looming above.
But there are other things it wants. Deeper things. Things that can't be heard over the deluge of monstrous things until they repeat so much that they fade into the background and the quieter things can be picked out.
It wants to be something great in this new age, and it doesn't care whether that comes from terrorising humanity or serving it. It wants the books in its libraries to be read and their knowledge used to help people or to destroy them. It wants the equipment in its laboratories at work brewing medicines or poisons. It wants to be a home again, else it wants to be an engine of war again.
Its first master wanted it to be a symbol of terror. Its second, in her brief time with it, wanted it to be a symbol of hope. It doesn't mind which it becomes, so long as it can be one of them. ]
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Alucard sighs. Runs his hands over the stone floor, and doesn't even pretend to be surprised when silent tears hit the floor.]
I don't know if I can give you any of those things. I doubt I can give anything at all now.
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I wish to be what I was. [ It's using Sypha's voice, but Sypha would never have such difficulties with words. It pauses between each one, struggling to speak in a human tongue. ] At your side or at your father's.
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WAIT SHIT THIS ONE SHOULD HAVE BEEN FIRST
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