Catch All

[cryptsleeper]

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[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.

[miraclewhip]

I did not break that castle. The castle broke itself by fighting against me. If the wagon's wheel comes loose, I do not blame the horses.

Right, you blame me.

[ They keep talking, Trevor not knowing the significance of the book and Sypha not thinking it over enough to be worried about Alucard looking at it. She just laughs, sinking against Trevor. ]

See? You heard it. He broke the castle. He admitted to it.

[cryptsleeper]

You still broke it.

[But Alucard's already deep in his own head. His hand shakes as he tries to rest against the counter, as if nothing's happened. He's fine. This is fine.

He tries to focus.

Making fun of Sypha. Right.]

You're also banned from cooking here.

[miraclewhip]

Why are you banning me? [ She points to the oven, then huffs. ] This thing is to blame. It should be banned from making food.

[ She waves one hand, forming a sheet of ice in the air. ]

Do you need-? [ She places ha hand against it, letting it sit between the two of them and Alucard so he can touch it, too. He was burned as well, after all. ]

[cryptsleeper]

You can't cook in the first place. It seems far safer.

[At the ice, Alucard holds up his hand. Already healed.]

I'm fine.

[miraclewhip]

I can cook! I cook sometimes!

She does. It's-

[ It sounds pained. It sounds slightly more pained when the ice turns to frigid water and just happens to splash him. ]

You make it, then.

[cryptsleeper]

[Alucard's entire face falls.

He's fucked up, hasn't he? In some unspoken way. The other two they have their language now. Their unspoken means of communication, and good. Good for them. Let them keep being happy.]

I'll do the dishes and get out of your hair--

[miraclewhip]

-Stay.

[ The tone of everything changed, and so does his. It's not pleading. It's not- much of anything, really. But it's soft. Warm. He rolls up his sleeves. ]

Apparently I'm cooking. You may as well be around to eat it. It's-

[ He looks over at the recipe that Sypha chose. It hasn't quite clicked why she chose it, but he knows that he likes those things. Always found them comforting. Maybe she feels the same way.

The recipe calls for apples, of course. Which is why there's a basket of pears. That? He understands. ]

-it'll be okay. I've made it before, I probably won't fuck up.

[cryptsleeper]

I'm not hungry.

[They were going to let him be during the day, weren't they? Hadn't that been how things were falling into place? It was going to be fine. Perfect. He could let distance drive them the rest of the way away, and no one would have to feel guilt. It was perfect it was--

--he sighs. He knows the excuse won't work, even if it's still true.]

Fine. But only to prevent another fire. When you're done, I'll excuse myself.

[miraclewhip]

See? You know that he is really the one who starts fires. I am innocent.

[ He ignores that, looking over what Sypha already had prepared. The batter is too thin, but he can deal with that. The spices aren't ground yet. The honey-

-he has a lot of work to do. But they'll cook quickly, when they're ready. He starts chopping a pear. ]

Try them? Honey's not going to be easy to come by unless I repair the old bee boxes. It'd be a shame to use it and you not have any.

[cryptsleeper]

Use the honey, Belmont. I'll go get it out of the pantry.

[He says nothing about repairing the boxes. Or even about how technically, Alucard can afford sugar. He just slips out of the kitchen and into the pantry, returning with a mostly full jar of the stuff and putting it beside him.]

I don't go through it very quickly.

[miraclewhip]

You just have honey? And I thought we would have to make do with the sweetness from the pears. That's-

[ He smiles, taking the honey. Adds a spoonful of it to the batter. He'll coat them with some more, once they're done. ]

Look at you, making her day.

[cryptsleeper]

I have sugar as well. What spices do you need for this? I have cinnamon, clove, nutmeg, or you could just rely on the allspice.

[He's not sure what Trevor means. So the Belmont gets a confused head tilt.]

[miraclewhip]

Mm. Guessing you wouldn't keep rosewater around here. Clove. And pepper, if you have it. Offsets the sweetness a little.

[ Also salt, because he uses salt for everything. But that's already to hand. And Sypha? Sypha is so enchanted by all of this talk of foods she could never afford to try. It also calls for ale, but he's guessing from the smell that Sypha already put that in the batter. RIP the bottle he thought he'd hidden so well in the wagon. ]

[cryptsleeper]

That's one of the only things I don't have. Would orange blossom suffice?

And of course I have pepper.

[miraclewhip]

I'm guessing yes? They're both flowers. Honestly, I think the rosewater may have just been for- you know.

[ For feeling safe from vampires. ]

Shit. Last time I checked it was hard to come by if you weren't on good terms with the church. Is there a secret fucking vampire spice market we never managed to find?

[cryptsleeper]

No, we just had money and easy access to the trade routes.

[Duh?????]

And sometimes you go to Istanbul for spices if you're my father courting my mother. Even though you're already married.

[miraclewhip]

Ah, not going through Italy, then. We couldn't get shit from Italy after the church decided they didn't care for us.

[ He laughs, tilting his head slightly. ]

If giving spices is how vampires go about courting then shit, I don't know what to say.

[ He's giving them so many different ones! ]

[cryptsleeper]

Of course not. Why go to Italy when you have a far more direct line?

[Obviously????]

...Well. It's how he did it anyway.

[miraclewhip]

Because we were kind of invested in not slighting the pope further. Was that not a priority for your dad?

[ PROBABLY NOT. He pauses, and there are words on his lips. 'How would you go about it'. Probably not an appropriate thing to ask right now. ]

Well, if it makes the fritters taste right then I accept whatever feelings the pepper's communicating.

[cryptsleeper]

I'll get you your pepper if you shut up about the pope.

[He means it as a joke. It even comes out that way.]

Anything else I need to bring?

[miraclewhip]

Shit, maybe there's a whole language here. Like flowers. So Pepper means 'stop talking about the pope, I hate that guy'.

[ He laughs at his own joke, then looks down at the book to double-check. ]

Clove, pepper. Orange blossom if you think it'd replace the rosewater well enough. I think that's everything.

[cryptsleeper]

It does in this dialect.

[Alucard's razor sharp with that, and he sounds close to entertained. And then he--actually goes and come back. Pepper and clove and a small bottle of orange blossom water, put off to the side from Trevor's workspace.

He's used to cooking alone. Cooking with someone else stirs far happier memories, those that become sad automatically and by no one's fault. How many times did he do this with his mother?]

Do you need me to do anything else?

[miraclewhip]

Grind up a little of the pepper and clove for me? And I'll get to work on the frying.

[ He's having more fun with this than he'd likely admit. It's- nice. He's not cooked alone (or. 'cooked') in a while now, but it's. Nice. To all be here, in a proper kitchen, working together. Them at cooking, Sypha at icing her hands and suggesting secret messages to be carried by various spices. Most of them are translating to badmouthing the pope. ]