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. ]
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?
[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?]
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. ]
About how much do you mean by a little? Give me a number for the peppercorns and gloves.
[Alucard's already grabbed the spice grinder and opened the lid.
This is...this is good. Not what Alucard expected. Not at all what he thought might ever help. But it is good all the same, and he's ready for it to keep going. Hell, he wants it to keep going, and he never thought he'd want anything again. Not with other people around.
He's relaxed. For a few glorious minutes, he's relaxed.]
Three cloves. Peppercorns- maybe eight? Just enough to be warming.
[ A little of the orange blossom water and bowl of cubed pear mixed into the batter, and fritter number one goes into the oil. There's steam but no smoke and a satisfying hiss and splutter of hot oil. ]
Seems about the right temperature. Shouldn't be longer than a few minutes.
This part Alucard's good at. He knows how to grind spices. Work in a kitchen. Fry things. Follow the instructions as Trevor gives them, and so it goes for a while onward. Alucard eats about half of a fritter, declaring the orange blossom an excellent substitute, and then the dishes? He'll do them later when does the dinner dishes.
He makes dinner, but it's light. Fish and salad for them both. Alucard is absent there, but when Trevor and Sypha finish and seemingly wander for a while, he goes back. Starts washing, relieved for the return of silence.]
[ He goes upstairs to find Alucard, but he isn't there. Sypha is, though. Her blanket fort now.
And so he comes back down. Not necessarily to look for Alucard. To bring down the trays of old, mostly uneaten food from the last day, to clear them off and wash them. And there he is. There he is with sleeves rolled back to wash dishes, with bandages sealed to his skin criss-crossing up his arms. ]
Be honest with me. Do you know how long you can go with so little food? And do you need blood? I- need to know what you need. To live. And to heal.
If it's dire, I can retreat to my father's coffin. It can sustain me, the same way the one in Gresit did.
[Meaning that no. He doesn't know. And it isn't something he wants to discuss, so Alucard's arms go all the way into the dish water instead. The bandages are covered now, and no one can think about them.]
Is there a reason that you used pears instead of apples for the fritters?
[ He sighs. On the one hand, Alucard doesn't need to worry about this. On the other, there are a lot of things Alucard probably thinks he doesn't need to worry about that he'd sleep a lot better at night knowing. ]
You have your own shit to worry about. More of it than we were really expecting. I can tell you, but- You're sure you want ours, too?
Mm. There's- I'm going to leave part of it out. It's not important for this, but- you know. I'm asking for honesty from you. Least I can do is give it in return.
There was an apple tree. A big one, the kind that's fit to be a galleon or a fortress. Still bearing fruit, even this time of year. And we found the bones underneath it. So many bones, and all of them so fucking small.
[ He sets down the trays, pushing the slight strain out of his voice. Trying to make it flat. ]
It was someone we trusted. We'd drunk tea with him only a few days ago. Not a friend, but- someone who treated us decently. Close enough.
[He can follow what's unsaid. Alucard's shoulders fall forward, as does his stomach. A child killer. Who had somehow gotten the other two to believe him trustworthy. It's awful. Beyond awful.]
No more apples in this house then.
[That's the easiest part.]
I'm sorry. I should have noticed something was wrong--
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[He's not sure what Trevor means. So the Belmont gets a confused head tilt.]
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[ 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. ]
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And of course I have pepper.
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[ 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?
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[Duh?????]
And sometimes you go to Istanbul for spices if you're my father courting my mother. Even though you're already married.
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[ 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! ]
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[Obviously????]
...Well. It's how he did it anyway.
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[ 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.
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[He means it as a joke. It even comes out that way.]
Anything else I need to bring?
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[ 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.
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[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?
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[ 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. ]
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[Alucard's already grabbed the spice grinder and opened the lid.
This is...this is good. Not what Alucard expected. Not at all what he thought might ever help. But it is good all the same, and he's ready for it to keep going. Hell, he wants it to keep going, and he never thought he'd want anything again. Not with other people around.
He's relaxed. For a few glorious minutes, he's relaxed.]
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[ A little of the orange blossom water and bowl of cubed pear mixed into the batter, and fritter number one goes into the oil. There's steam but no smoke and a satisfying hiss and splutter of hot oil. ]
Seems about the right temperature. Shouldn't be longer than a few minutes.
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This part Alucard's good at. He knows how to grind spices. Work in a kitchen. Fry things. Follow the instructions as Trevor gives them, and so it goes for a while onward. Alucard eats about half of a fritter, declaring the orange blossom an excellent substitute, and then the dishes? He'll do them later when does the dinner dishes.
He makes dinner, but it's light. Fish and salad for them both. Alucard is absent there, but when Trevor and Sypha finish and seemingly wander for a while, he goes back. Starts washing, relieved for the return of silence.]
Hm. I suppose that was enough food.
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[ He goes upstairs to find Alucard, but he isn't there. Sypha is, though. Her blanket fort now.
And so he comes back down. Not necessarily to look for Alucard. To bring down the trays of old, mostly uneaten food from the last day, to clear them off and wash them. And there he is. There he is with sleeves rolled back to wash dishes, with bandages sealed to his skin criss-crossing up his arms. ]
Be honest with me. Do you know how long you can go with so little food? And do you need blood? I- need to know what you need. To live. And to heal.
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[Meaning that no. He doesn't know. And it isn't something he wants to discuss, so Alucard's arms go all the way into the dish water instead. The bandages are covered now, and no one can think about them.]
Is there a reason that you used pears instead of apples for the fritters?
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[ He sighs. On the one hand, Alucard doesn't need to worry about this. On the other, there are a lot of things Alucard probably thinks he doesn't need to worry about that he'd sleep a lot better at night knowing. ]
You have your own shit to worry about. More of it than we were really expecting. I can tell you, but- You're sure you want ours, too?
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Fair is fair, isn't it?
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There was an apple tree. A big one, the kind that's fit to be a galleon or a fortress. Still bearing fruit, even this time of year. And we found the bones underneath it. So many bones, and all of them so fucking small.
[ He sets down the trays, pushing the slight strain out of his voice. Trying to make it flat. ]
It was someone we trusted. We'd drunk tea with him only a few days ago. Not a friend, but- someone who treated us decently. Close enough.
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No more apples in this house then.
[That's the easiest part.]
I'm sorry. I should have noticed something was wrong--
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Not like we told you. I think- I think right now she wants to pretend it didn't happen anyway.
[ Picking up a tea towel, he holds out his hands to take the dish Alucard's washing. ]
Part of me just- thought the world would be different, you know? It felt different, with her.
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She makes it so easy to think it's a possibility, doesn't she?
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[ Makes everything seem brighter. Even now. Like he has to be wrong about the world, because otherwise she could never be in it.
He dries the dish off, putting it away. ]
-I should know better. But it's so easy to get caught up in her- her everything. She does this smile. And this laugh and-
[ Like. An. Egg. ]
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