[The mattress is all Alucard cares about. He's curled up on it the moment he's left alone, and he barely moves from it. He hasn't had a comfortable mattress since his home was destroyed, save for the rare inn or night in someone else's bed.
It'll be the only comfort he allows himself. He'll die in his own horrible clothes rather than the clean ones left for him. They're not even touched. Same goes for the food. Neither are needed at this point. He'll be dehydrated and halfway to dead, and that'll minimize the pain. Make it easier to let the smoke take him before the flames well and truly start.
He'll scream. He knows that. It'll be awful but at least after that, it'll be over.
He sleeps, mostly. Lets the last two days pass by.]
[ It's a raspy sound that approaches Alucard on All Hollow's Eve. A cough. Heavy footsteps.
The moths settled in Alucard's hair scatter as the inquisitor approaches, guards flanking him on each side. Even just two days later, he looks different. His eyes are sunken, lips pale, body barely able to hold its own weight. ]
Follow.
[ He says nothing more. The door is unlocked and the guards enter, ready to drag Alucard if he can't drag himself to his feet.
The stake is already prepared outside the church. Kindling is ready to be stacked around Alucard. And those moths lie on every surface. The inquisitor coughs again as the men set about binding Alucard to the stake, more violently this time. ]
[Alucard stirs from sleep. Gets up slowly, just barely moving under his own steam. This is his last act alive. He won't be helped along.
He had protested for years that this was unfair. That he didn't deserve any of this. But after too many years of being ground down, there's only acceptance and a certain amount of relief.
There. Binding. Alucard's body just goes slack. He doesn't have to do anything further. His eyes close, clocking the moths for a last moment.
There's been a lot of those lately, haven't there? Strange.]
[ The sun sets as the firewood is stacked around Alucard.
And then the inquisitor coughs again. So violently that eyes leave Alucard, that the guards have to rush to his side to keep him standing. He coughs and hacks until something tears its way out of his throat. More moths. Three of them living, a few more dead and attached to the tar-like mass they pull out of the inquisitor's mouth.
More people begin to cough among the audience, as more of those moths pull more of that horrible substance out of them. From the well not far away, half-drowned moths tug great clumps of ichor.
It's all-hallows, and Trevor has been sent here to hunt. ]
Light the flames!
[ The inquisitor's voice is ragged from the choking, but his guards obey nonetheless before all attention turns back to the horrible substance as it coalesces into something more solid. And then to the moths as they do likewise. Trevor isn't unharmed by the chase, but he's not been slowed either. Not by injury or by the fact that doing this in front of so many people is breaking all sorts of rules. The plague is weak, forced out into the open like this, and he simply shoves it into the flames.
The flames where Alucard is.
It's- probably the smoke getting to him, isn't it? There isn't actually a moth monster 1v1ing the plague in his fire. ]
[Alucard doesn't open his eyes until the coughing becomes too loud and violent that he can't ignroe it. That means that he opens his eyes at the exact moment that the moths tear their way out of the priest's throat. It is horrifying to see what comes out with them and--
--fuck.
He'll really be a witch, won't he?
Alucard's too wide eyed and horrified to struggle more. The guards try to do the work but the moths? He can't make sense of them. But the fires are lit, the smoke is starting to take effect and you know what?
It doesn't matter. The thing he wanted is happening and whatever this result is? He won't be alive for it.
The flames catch at his boots. Around him is chaos, moths, and fire.
His eyes close. At some point, he thinks he screams. Then there is nothing.]
[ Waking isn't painless. It's awful, more than likely. His injuries have been tended to, covered with some floral-smelling paste that's since tried into clay and wrapped with soft cloth, but they're still awful.
But when Alucard wakes, it's in a soft bed. The fabric of each induvidual blanket is cool and crisp, but together they're warm. Sunlight streams through a gap in thick curtains that are otherwise keeping the room in shade - too much brightness probably isn't good for his head right now. The smell of jasmine fills the air.
On one side of him, there's a barrier of pillows. On the other side of the barrier, the sound of soft breathing.
A single hand extends through the barrier, through a gap between pillows, to rest on Alucard's less injured one. ]
That isn't right at all. An afterlife, if it exists, shouldn't be this for him. He's in pain, that part is fine, but the rest? It's too soft. Cozy. Comforting, with the scent of flowers in the air and he doesn't trust any of it for a moment.
The part of Aluard that is a doctor knows not to sit up. The rest of him, the part that is panicking, sits up anyway.
What follows is a sharp gasp of pain. It's more noise than he's made in the past few days combined, for after the confession, he fell so very silent.]
[ It's been- something of an exciting few days. The hunt, and then a new husband to attend to, and then his father being angry with him and relieved in equal measure. His husband has been asleep for most of it.
The thing that sits up next to Alucard is- the antlers are the first obvious thing. Then the collar of fur about its neck. Then, thank god, it is clothed properly. That would probably be even stranger.
Trevor looks down at his husband, gaze somewhere between adoring and concerned. ]
I don't- think you should be doing that?
[ He doesn't know how many parts of humans grow back, okay. If it's 'all of them' then it's probably fine. If not? Maybe he should be staying still. ]
Alucard gape. He hasn't done that in a very long time, but he thinks it's allowed here. He is definitely in Hell. It's just taken a very strange form and it's absolutely tricking him for the time being.]
Fuck.
[At all of this. But the energy he has is finite, and he just flops down onto the mattress. It barely moves in response.]
[ It takes all the self-control he has to not simply say 'home'. Because it's the correct answer. ]
The Beautiful Lands.
[ He starts the dismantle the pillow wall, there so he could sleep close to Alucard without touching him because he has at least enough understanding of boundaries to know that cuddling someone while they're unconcious and not yet aware that you've decided to marry them is maybe not proper. That self control? Dissolves as he removes the physical boundary. ]
Alucard grew up knowing about the story of how his family came from France to Wallachia. It was important that the Tepes' connection to the supernatural be understood, if only as a means of defense. Just as important for his father was to know where the name Mathias came from in the family line, in case Alucard never had a brother or sister.
He ended up never having a sibling. So he bore the first of his family line as the last representative of it. The matter had weighed heavily on him, and now it's nearly crushing.
Alucard closes his eyes. He knew the rules of places like this growing up, and had learned more of them while living like a feral thing.]
Have you given me food or drink while I've recovered?
Only water. Wasn't allowed to give you anything else.
[ He huffs at that. 'No, Trevor, don't give the human food while they're asleep because they'll choke on it'. Like he's looking after a pet. The obvious meaning doesn't strike him, he just looks down at Alucard in concern. ]
[ It does mean he'll need to leave sooner rather than later. Alucard was half-starved when he came here. He's not exactly grown better in the last few days. He heaves himself out of the bed, only half-grumpy about having to do so. He was enjoying sleeping next to Alucard. But errands to run is a small price to pay for being able to hear his husband talking to him. ]
[ If Alucard wakes while Trevor is gone, he might notice a rabbit sitting on the chair next to the bed just. Staring at him. Perfectly normal, that.
Waking proper comes with a new smell, and with the sounds of people talking some way away. Meat and fruit of some sort. The second voice goes quiet once they realise he's awake, and a rabbit swiftly leaves the house.
It takes a little longer for Trevor to approach with a plate of rabbit meat and pears and something dark green and leafy.
...yes, he asked a rabbit for advice on how to cook rabbit. ]
It's- [ -not the world's most impressive plate of food. But not bad for a first try. ] -all from over that side.
[Alucard doesn't wake. He wants to just stay asleep. Maybe the fae can just do that for him, like in stories.
But food rouses him, and in all his awful thin-ness, Alucard's stomach growls. It's furious even, being punished because the brain of the meatsack is sick in it's own way.
He sits slowly. It's only his arm and the soles of his feet that are in a bad way. The rest is from his own lack of self care, and when Alucard looks to his good arm, he knows he's done himself wrong. The bone is too prominent.]
[He tries the rabbit first. It's cautious and unsure and Alucard's good hand shakes a little, but oh.
Food is good. Duh.
He eats. It's not quick, because he knows better than to rust, but he finishes all as quickly as he can. His stomach wants more, more and now, and the promise of broth forces it to settle for the time being.
[ He sits and watches as Alucard eats. A difficult, too-thin human. His difficult, too-thin human. He has questions to ask. Things to say. But instead he just watches, delighted by the entire scene of man eating meal. ]
I’m going to guess you’re still feeling like shit.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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It'll be the only comfort he allows himself. He'll die in his own horrible clothes rather than the clean ones left for him. They're not even touched. Same goes for the food. Neither are needed at this point. He'll be dehydrated and halfway to dead, and that'll minimize the pain. Make it easier to let the smoke take him before the flames well and truly start.
He'll scream. He knows that. It'll be awful but at least after that, it'll be over.
He sleeps, mostly. Lets the last two days pass by.]
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The moths settled in Alucard's hair scatter as the inquisitor approaches, guards flanking him on each side. Even just two days later, he looks different. His eyes are sunken, lips pale, body barely able to hold its own weight. ]
Follow.
[ He says nothing more. The door is unlocked and the guards enter, ready to drag Alucard if he can't drag himself to his feet.
The stake is already prepared outside the church. Kindling is ready to be stacked around Alucard. And those moths lie on every surface. The inquisitor coughs again as the men set about binding Alucard to the stake, more violently this time. ]
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He had protested for years that this was unfair. That he didn't deserve any of this. But after too many years of being ground down, there's only acceptance and a certain amount of relief.
There. Binding. Alucard's body just goes slack. He doesn't have to do anything further. His eyes close, clocking the moths for a last moment.
There's been a lot of those lately, haven't there? Strange.]
AND THEN SHIT GETS WILD
And then the inquisitor coughs again. So violently that eyes leave Alucard, that the guards have to rush to his side to keep him standing. He coughs and hacks until something tears its way out of his throat. More moths. Three of them living, a few more dead and attached to the tar-like mass they pull out of the inquisitor's mouth.
More people begin to cough among the audience, as more of those moths pull more of that horrible substance out of them. From the well not far away, half-drowned moths tug great clumps of ichor.
It's all-hallows, and Trevor has been sent here to hunt. ]
Light the flames!
[ The inquisitor's voice is ragged from the choking, but his guards obey nonetheless before all attention turns back to the horrible substance as it coalesces into something more solid. And then to the moths as they do likewise. Trevor isn't unharmed by the chase, but he's not been slowed either. Not by injury or by the fact that doing this in front of so many people is breaking all sorts of rules. The plague is weak, forced out into the open like this, and he simply shoves it into the flames.
The flames where Alucard is.
It's- probably the smoke getting to him, isn't it? There isn't actually a moth monster 1v1ing the plague in his fire. ]
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--fuck.
He'll really be a witch, won't he?
Alucard's too wide eyed and horrified to struggle more. The guards try to do the work but the moths? He can't make sense of them. But the fires are lit, the smoke is starting to take effect and you know what?
It doesn't matter. The thing he wanted is happening and whatever this result is? He won't be alive for it.
The flames catch at his boots. Around him is chaos, moths, and fire.
His eyes close. At some point, he thinks he screams. Then there is nothing.]
no subject
But when Alucard wakes, it's in a soft bed. The fabric of each induvidual blanket is cool and crisp, but together they're warm. Sunlight streams through a gap in thick curtains that are otherwise keeping the room in shade - too much brightness probably isn't good for his head right now. The smell of jasmine fills the air.
On one side of him, there's a barrier of pillows. On the other side of the barrier, the sound of soft breathing.
A single hand extends through the barrier, through a gap between pillows, to rest on Alucard's less injured one. ]
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That isn't right at all. An afterlife, if it exists, shouldn't be this for him. He's in pain, that part is fine, but the rest? It's too soft. Cozy. Comforting, with the scent of flowers in the air and he doesn't trust any of it for a moment.
The part of Aluard that is a doctor knows not to sit up. The rest of him, the part that is panicking, sits up anyway.
What follows is a sharp gasp of pain. It's more noise than he's made in the past few days combined, for after the confession, he fell so very silent.]
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[ It's been- something of an exciting few days. The hunt, and then a new husband to attend to, and then his father being angry with him and relieved in equal measure. His husband has been asleep for most of it.
The thing that sits up next to Alucard is- the antlers are the first obvious thing. Then the collar of fur about its neck. Then, thank god, it is clothed properly. That would probably be even stranger.
Trevor looks down at his husband, gaze somewhere between adoring and concerned. ]
I don't- think you should be doing that?
[ He doesn't know how many parts of humans grow back, okay. If it's 'all of them' then it's probably fine. If not? Maybe he should be staying still. ]
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Alucard gape. He hasn't done that in a very long time, but he thinks it's allowed here. He is definitely in Hell. It's just taken a very strange form and it's absolutely tricking him for the time being.]
Fuck.
[At all of this. But the energy he has is finite, and he just flops down onto the mattress. It barely moves in response.]
Where are we?
[What is the lie to be?]
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The Beautiful Lands.
[ He starts the dismantle the pillow wall, there so he could sleep close to Alucard without touching him because he has at least enough understanding of boundaries to know that cuddling someone while they're unconcious and not yet aware that you've decided to marry them is maybe not proper. That self control? Dissolves as he removes the physical boundary. ]
Home.
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So it's a different kind of Hell and he's alive.
Alucard grew up knowing about the story of how his family came from France to Wallachia. It was important that the Tepes' connection to the supernatural be understood, if only as a means of defense. Just as important for his father was to know where the name Mathias came from in the family line, in case Alucard never had a brother or sister.
He ended up never having a sibling. So he bore the first of his family line as the last representative of it. The matter had weighed heavily on him, and now it's nearly crushing.
Alucard closes his eyes. He knew the rules of places like this growing up, and had learned more of them while living like a feral thing.]
Have you given me food or drink while I've recovered?
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[ He huffs at that. 'No, Trevor, don't give the human food while they're asleep because they'll choke on it'. Like he's looking after a pet. The obvious meaning doesn't strike him, he just looks down at Alucard in concern. ]
Are you hungry? I can bring food.
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Alucard opens his eyes again.]
I will only eat food from the outside human world. Not here.
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That sounds like a pain. You'll have to wait a while before you can eat, if I have to hunt on the outside. You're sure?
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[He can be insistent, even though the pain. There's a hum of survival instinct back in him. Alucard has no idea why.]
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[ It does mean he'll need to leave sooner rather than later. Alucard was half-starved when he came here. He's not exactly grown better in the last few days. He heaves himself out of the bed, only half-grumpy about having to do so. He was enjoying sleeping next to Alucard. But errands to run is a small price to pay for being able to hear his husband talking to him. ]
You'll be okay like this on your own?
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[Probably?
Yes.]
I'll sleep.
[That's all he can probably do. And if to prove the point or because truly tired, Alucard is almost out of it again.]
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Waking proper comes with a new smell, and with the sounds of people talking some way away. Meat and fruit of some sort. The second voice goes quiet once they realise he's awake, and a rabbit swiftly leaves the house.
It takes a little longer for Trevor to approach with a plate of rabbit meat and pears and something dark green and leafy.
...yes, he asked a rabbit for advice on how to cook rabbit. ]
It's- [ -not the world's most impressive plate of food. But not bad for a first try. ] -all from over that side.
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But food rouses him, and in all his awful thin-ness, Alucard's stomach growls. It's furious even, being punished because the brain of the meatsack is sick in it's own way.
He sits slowly. It's only his arm and the soles of his feet that are in a bad way. The rest is from his own lack of self care, and when Alucard looks to his good arm, he knows he's done himself wrong. The bone is too prominent.]
You swear it?
[He isn't eating faerie food. He won't.]
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[ He sets the tray in Alucard’s lap and hovers over him anxiously, waiting to see if he eats. ]
There’ll be bone broth in a few hours. It might be easier for you.
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[He tries the rabbit first. It's cautious and unsure and Alucard's good hand shakes a little, but oh.
Food is good. Duh.
He eats. It's not quick, because he knows better than to rust, but he finishes all as quickly as he can. His stomach wants more, more and now, and the promise of broth forces it to settle for the time being.
With the plate cleared, he meets Trevor's gaze.]
Thank you.
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I’m going to guess you’re still feeling like shit.
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[He knows his injuries. They should be manifesting after he rests and wakes next.]
I will.
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...is medicine a food? I can find something for pain.
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[In a better frame of mind, Alucard might be able to tell. For now, he simply shakes his head.]
I need to lie back down.
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