Catch All

[cryptsleeper]

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[cryptsleeper]

[No. He doesn't want this conversation.]

We'll address that later.

[So. Much later.]

Keep your eyes on the eggs.

[miraclewhip]

[ Ah. So maybe it is a little bit of a problem.

He breaks the eggs into the pan, dodging the spitting fat this time. ]

Don't have to address it at all, if you don't want. Just- needed to know it wasn't going to cause problems.

[cryptsleeper]

I don't care, Trevor.

[He's too burnt to care.]

Just focus on getting breakfast on the table.

[miraclewhip]

Well. Good. That's that dealt with, then.

[ He's not entirely convinced that it's not a problem, but he's also happy to drop the topic. Besides, the burner does cook things much faster than heated stone does. ]

There we go. Eggs.

[cryptsleeper]

And now you know how that part of the kitchen works.

[He sounds pleased about that much. Doesn't smile, but there's satisfaction somewhere in all those miserable lines on her face.]

Go wake her up. I can keep this much warm.

[miraclewhip]

Yeah, I’ll be back soon.

[ He’s gone a little while, and Sypha’s attached to his arm when he returns. He guides her to a chair and she falls into it like syrup before noticing Alucard and perking up a little. ]

Oh! You’re up and about.

[cryptsleeper]

[The two plates are covered with pot lids until they get back. Keeping things warm. The bacon crisp. The eggs perfect.

When they approach, Alucard removes those lids and--

--oh.]

A little, yes.

[He feels like a deer in the headlights, and all he wants to do is move in the other direction.]

He cooked it all

[miraclewhip]

You showed him how to use the-

[ She perks up at that, enough to notice that there are only two plates. Trevor pulls out a chair to sit and starts eating, only freezing when Sypha looks at him disapprovingly. Egg hanging from his mouth. ]

Why doesn't he have breakfast?

Ibbn'- [ ...He takes a moment to finish that bit of egg. ] -He didn't want any.

[cryptsleeper]

I'm not hungry, Sypha. He offered.

[Instead? Alucard takes the pan. Moves over and start to clean it quickly.]

I promise it wasn't a matter of exclusion.

[miraclewhip]

[ Sypha makes a disapproving noise, but Trevor reaches out to squeeze her hand. ]

Come on. Eggs. You like eggs.

[ And that seems to be that. They eat breakfast, and Sypha is worried but content to let it drop for now. ]

Sit down with us, once you're done? We can eat and figure out everyone's plan for the day, like-

[ He cuts himself off. Like a family. ]

[cryptsleeper]

[Alucard doesn't say much else. Focuses on the dishes and just--

--he shakes his head.]

People are hard right now, Belmont.

[miraclewhip]

[ It's funny, isn't it? They were gone when - if those dolls that he's trying not to acknowledge are any indication - he wanted them here. And now they're here when he needs to be alone. ]

Same rules as before, then. I'll bring dinner for you tonight, you can- do what you want until then, I suppose. I'm not exactly in charge of anyone here.

[ A sigh. ]

I'll be wrestling with the garden again, if you need me.

[cryptsleeper]

--Very well.

[He floats off. Back to the same room. Taking all the blankets with him, because that? That is still safe.

And he stays there. Stays there until sometime just before dinner when there is a smell in the air and that smell? That's fire...]

[miraclewhip]

[ It's difficult to have a strong reaction anymore, to the smell of fire and smoke. Difficult around Sypha, who is all warmth, who always has just a little of that smell hanging in her robes. So he doesn't panic. Not even here, among the ruins of a place ravaged by it.

But he does take action. He needs to find Alucard and Sypha and he needs to figure out where the fire is and how to control it. And the fire? The fire he can smell, so that's the obvious first step.

He runs toward it, keeping an eye out for the other two along the way. ]

Sypha? Sypha!

[cryptsleeper]

[Alucard floats. He knows the direction, this is a kitchen fire. So he speeds along, until his path intersects with Trevor and--]

Is she cooking?!

[miraclewhip]

I don't think-

[ There's a hissing sound and a loud yelp from the kitchen, because someone's first instinct was to throw water on an oil fire. ]

Fuck, Sypha!

[ She's okay aside from some mild steam burns, thanks to the ability to direct the flaming oil that exploded out of the pan away from herself. The flames that leapt out of the pan when she added the water freeze in the air, burning until they run out of oil and then blinking out one by one. But the pan is still on fire. ]

[cryptsleeper]

She's not allowed to cook!

[Alucard floats right over to the sofa, evaluating the situation in a second. The pan is on fire. So Alucard first goes to grab a pot lid, and he slams that through the flames onto the fire itself. Then? Then the pan gets removed from the burner, thrown into the sink. His own skin blisters horribly as he does it, but so be it.]

Sypha, reduce any remaining flames then turn the burner off! I'll deal with the next step after that!

[miraclewhip]

[ He pushes Sypha down, and that's entirely reflex. Flames mean smoke, and smoke is more dangerous higher up, and-

-he's maybe working on instinct and dislike of fire here. But he distantly hears Alucard's voice, and Sypha hears it not-distantly enough to push down the fire. Trevor can move through the scalding steam as she does to turn off the burner. ]

[cryptsleeper]

[A few more seconds and the chaos ends. Sypha clears the smoke. The pan is no longer on fire. The dhampir looks like an angry cat with very poofy hair, and his eyes go to Sypha.]

What were you trying to cook?!

[It's less angry and more bewildered.]

[miraclewhip]

You in one piece?

[ He addresses it to the bundle of robes he's pulled up against him. She answers that question first, nodding and pulling herself free. Looking over her slightly-burned hands, testing to see she can move her fingers and then nodding again, covering her hands with a thin layer of frost.

She points to a book that, thankfully, has survived the worst of the fire. It's from the hold, and it's-

-yeah, they absolutely kept cookbooks in the hold. The current page describes a recipe for dense cakes fried in oil. Someone's been attempting to stress bake. Stress fry. ]

[cryptsleeper]

[Alucard pauses. Looks to the open page. Then to Sypha. Back to the page.

And what breaks out is a laugh. A real one, deep and full and wonderfully warm, free of the tension and horror and uncertainty that Alucard has carried around the other two for so many nights. It is delighted and furious in equal measure.]

Why would you try frying!? Of all the things--?!

[miraclewhip]

I was following the instructions! It was the fire pit that did it!

[ That's what the burners are called now. There's another book to the side of the first one. Smaller and battered and missing the numbering on the spine that marks the other books from the hold. There's a bookmark in it. ]

[cryptsleeper]

Uh-huh. Sure.

[He does notice the book though. Frowns, walking over to examine it.]

You didn't need to go into the Hold for a cookbook--

[miraclewhip]

[ -finally lured Trey out of his room. The lente frytoures worked. Always does. He's still not himself. Wouldn't look at us. Wouldn't talk. Just snatched the plate from her and ran away.

Juliet was like this, too, after her first kill. I had to make the sweets, then. I don't remember if I was as shaken. I want to think I wasn't. I didn't put a stake in anything, after all, and I certainly survived. No reason to be sulking.

I shouldn't complain. If sweets is all that he'll eat until this passes, it's as good a reason as any to only eat sweets.

It's a diary. Discussing the recipe in the cookbook. Like it's something that might help. ]

I had to do something...

[cryptsleeper]

You already broke the castle, you have to burn it too?

[The words slip out of Alucard's mouth so easily. Like this is just being home with the other two again, nothing else horrible or untoward taking place. But then he opens the book and--

---oh.

He sobers up immediately. Closes the book and replaces it to where it was, moment well killed.]

Oh.