I'll start work on them tomorrow. It shouldn't take more than a few days.
[ The cloth for the bandages has been much quicker, but if it's for Alucard then he wants it to be better. Not suspiciously good, but he wants to be able to take some pride in it. ]
[Alucard's careful as he stands. Put both of his hands on the table
to steady himself, because he wants to at least do that much before Trevor
scoops him up yet again.]
About time. Never did manage to fatten you up, did we?
[ He's careful as always when he lifts Alucard, but he's right. He's heavier. Sturdier.
It's not a full-on princess carry, at least. More him making a chair with one arm and supporting Alucard in it with the other. He's trying to do all he can to not be weird. It's just that he's naturally kind of weird. ]
Doesn't feel like carrying around dry leaves anymore. That's a relief.
[He remembers the routine. Where to hang onto. How to
move.]
I'd hope not. And you'll be happy to know there's a pack of grandmothers
here who have tried to get more skin on me. It's never going to take, i'm
afraid.
[ It's a comfortable routine, at least for him. Alucard's warm body and slow heartbeat against his cooler one and constant thrumming of tiny moth hearts.
The journey up the stairs is careful but steady. ]
Let me take care of you, while I'm here? Consider it part of the bartering.
[There's only a single door upstairs. Beyond it is Alucard's room,
little more than a straw bed raised up of the floor by some old boxes with
a few thin layers of bedding to account for Istanbul's warmer weather, dyed
different shades of blue or yellow, a chest of drawers for his thing, a
trunk at the foot of the bed, and a nightside table. The only touch of
something fancy is the rug on the floo colored a deep red.]
The bucket is downstairs, placed inside another bucket beside the dinner
table.
[Alucard has rolled up his trouser legs to his knees, and beside him
is a little bottle of a fine purple powder. He's dressed otherwise. When
the bucket is placed down, Alucard leans forward, adding a small sprinkle.
Then his own feet go in,
The comfort visibly spreads across his face. Trevor's seen the scars
before, and over the years they've mostly grown thick and dark.]
Thank you. Most nights I do this I end up sitting at the table until I
fall asleep there.
[ She doesn't. But the next day she's awake long enough to take a little solid food. She's groggy enough from painkillers that talking to her is a lost cause, but she can eat and only occasionally refers to Alucard as a beautiful golden sunshine man. As the days go by she becomes more coherent. Her name is Sypha, rather than Plague Lady.
It scares her, being in a strange place in a new country, separated from her people and in pain. Trevor stays with her most of the time, only leaving in the evening briefly on days when things are difficult for Alucard. Sometimes he is in his normal form, often he is moths. But he is there and he weaves.
It's when she's asleep one evening that he comes to sit with Alucard at supper again, laying a few thin cloths on the table. They're finely made but undyed, looking plain enough to anyone who doesn't put an immense amount of effort into studying curtains. ]
[Alucard stays in for two days, just to keep an eye on Sypha and because that's as long as he has cleared his calendar for. In those two days, he makes food for Sypha, and they both get a little information out of her. When she rests, he does paperwork and continues to soak his feet while sitting at the kitchen table - an hour in, an hour out. His feet can't become prunes entirely.
Trevor has been helping though. A lot. And it's nice, having that level of trust for someone in his house. In knowing that if a hand brushes over his, there won't be an ounce of harm in it.
He's getting used to it. That's a problem.
Alucard looks up from his last scraps of dinner when the cloths are put on the table. He blinks, then leans forward.]
He doesn't smile much. Or sustain it very long. But this time he does, because Alucard absolutely understands the meaning. And then some.
He also understands that he can repay that in kind right now. One hand reaches over, the burnt one, and settles atop Trevor's. Squeezes softly, just for a moment.]
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[ The cloth for the bandages has been much quicker, but if it's for Alucard then he wants it to be better. Not suspiciously good, but he wants to be able to take some pride in it. ]
You're ready to go upstairs?
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I am, yes.
[Alucard's careful as he stands. Put both of his hands on the table to steady himself, because he wants to at least do that much before Trevor scoops him up yet again.]
You'll find I weigh more now.
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[ He's careful as always when he lifts Alucard, but he's right. He's heavier. Sturdier.
It's not a full-on princess carry, at least. More him making a chair with one arm and supporting Alucard in it with the other. He's trying to do all he can to not be weird. It's just that he's naturally kind of weird. ]
Doesn't feel like carrying around dry leaves anymore. That's a relief.
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[He remembers the routine. Where to hang onto. How to move.]
I'd hope not. And you'll be happy to know there's a pack of grandmothers here who have tried to get more skin on me. It's never going to take, i'm afraid.
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[ It's a comfortable routine, at least for him. Alucard's warm body and slow heartbeat against his cooler one and constant thrumming of tiny moth hearts.
The journey up the stairs is careful but steady. ]
Let me take care of you, while I'm here? Consider it part of the bartering.
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I don't want to get terribly used to it.
[It's a near protest. But...he's going to be working himself to death with Sypha's recovery.]
But I will take any help you offer.
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[ Not that he has a great concept of what 'too much' is. ]
Where do I put you down?
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Well, there's only one place.
[There's only a single door upstairs. Beyond it is Alucard's room, little more than a straw bed raised up of the floor by some old boxes with a few thin layers of bedding to account for Istanbul's warmer weather, dyed different shades of blue or yellow, a chest of drawers for his thing, a trunk at the foot of the bed, and a nightside table. The only touch of something fancy is the rug on the floo colored a deep red.]
The bucket is downstairs, placed inside another bucket beside the dinner table.
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[ He sets Alucard down carefully before leaving for the water. A few moments and he's back with the bucket. ]
Brought your terrible dark magic.
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Very terrible.
[Alucard has rolled up his trouser legs to his knees, and beside him is a little bottle of a fine purple powder. He's dressed otherwise. When the bucket is placed down, Alucard leans forward, adding a small sprinkle. Then his own feet go in,
The comfort visibly spreads across his face. Trevor's seen the scars before, and over the years they've mostly grown thick and dark.]
Thank you. Most nights I do this I end up sitting at the table until I fall asleep there.
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[ Not that he'd know, because there is no uncomfortable sleeping position when you're just a bunch of moths on the wall. ]
I'll go back down to watch her soon, but- there's nothing else I can do, to make it easier?
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Not for tonight. Just wake me if she stirs
Il giorno giovedì 5 marzo 2020, miraclewhip - DW Comment < dw_null@dreamwidth.org> ha scritto:
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It scares her, being in a strange place in a new country, separated from her people and in pain. Trevor stays with her most of the time, only leaving in the evening briefly on days when things are difficult for Alucard. Sometimes he is in his normal form, often he is moths. But he is there and he weaves.
It's when she's asleep one evening that he comes to sit with Alucard at supper again, laying a few thin cloths on the table. They're finely made but undyed, looking plain enough to anyone who doesn't put an immense amount of effort into studying curtains. ]
I'm- doing bartering.
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Trevor has been helping though. A lot. And it's nice, having that level of trust for someone in his house. In knowing that if a hand brushes over his, there won't be an ounce of harm in it.
He's getting used to it. That's a problem.
Alucard looks up from his last scraps of dinner when the cloths are put on the table. He blinks, then leans forward.]
These are beautiful.
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[ He folds the cloths, leaving them there. ]
Is that payment enough?
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[He smiles at Trevor. It's a little more confident. A lot more grateful.]
Trevor, this alone could buy my services for a year.
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[ He laughs. ]
Just say yes. I was going to say something good when you said yes.
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[ Thank you for playing along and setting him up to say a soft thing he appreciates it. ]
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He doesn't smile much. Or sustain it very long. But this time he does, because Alucard absolutely understands the meaning. And then some.
He also understands that he can repay that in kind right now. One hand reaches over, the burnt one, and settles atop Trevor's. Squeezes softly, just for a moment.]
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It's nice, when you're like this. I like it.
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It is a rarity. Less so since you've arrived, in spite of the circumstances of why you're here.
[Is Sypha awake? He's really not sure.]
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[ Oh no. Oh no. This is really happening. Alucard is holding onto him and not letting go and it's perfect.
He outstretches his other hand, letting it hover near Alucard's cheek. Not touching, but an invitation. ]
I want to make it happen more often.
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[He does lean forward for that touch though. If nothing else, it's been earned.
And Alucard has a sneaking suspicion that it's the exact moment Sypha will stir and they'll both be aflutter over her.]
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Until he remembers that he'd rather Alucard not be on his feet, and moths back. ]
She's awake. May I carry you?
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