[Between Alucard's strength and Trevor's grip, it's no surprise that the shirt is the weakest link. It gives with a comically drawn out tear, throwing Trevor backward and off balance. Sypha stumbles away as well, eyes wide and clouded with confusion.]
We know. That's exactly what we're worried about. Alucard.
[His name comes out a plea. She's not sure what for. He looks terrible, and she hates it. He looks defeated, and she despises it. He won't look at them, he flinched from them, and she wants to sink her nails into something and bite it dead.
She forces herself to sit down on the dais beside the coffin instead. They're within arms' reach of one another, but she keeps her hands tucked to her chest. A few strides away, Trevor stands stock-still, breathing heavily through his nose like a stunned bull. Sypha chews at her lip and studies Alucard, the angry red lines visible at his wrists and the torn front of his shirt. They're oddly clean, precise, as though drawn on with ink and a straight edge. She's not sure what to make of them.]
no subject
We know. That's exactly what we're worried about. Alucard.
[His name comes out a plea. She's not sure what for. He looks terrible, and she hates it. He looks defeated, and she despises it. He won't look at them, he flinched from them, and she wants to sink her nails into something and bite it dead.
She forces herself to sit down on the dais beside the coffin instead. They're within arms' reach of one another, but she keeps her hands tucked to her chest. A few strides away, Trevor stands stock-still, breathing heavily through his nose like a stunned bull. Sypha chews at her lip and studies Alucard, the angry red lines visible at his wrists and the torn front of his shirt. They're oddly clean, precise, as though drawn on with ink and a straight edge. She's not sure what to make of them.]
What happened? Please.