[The coffin opens with less effort than Sypha would have expected. She's instantly annoyed that she let the size and heft of the thing fool her - of course Dracula's own coffin would be perfectly balanced.
For that's what this has to be. Dracula's resting place. Even more so than the bedroom they turned over yesterday. Sypha's belly twists at the thought of how Alucard ended up within it. Was he forced? Or so badly injured he had no other choice, like when he retreated to Gresit?
The lid swings away and for a split second she and Trevor just...look. They take in the sunken eyes, the unwashed shirt, the crescents of dirt embedded under his nails. Alucard never looked so unkempt even when they were a week on the road in the dead of winter. And he was never so unaware of another presence. It's not until Sypha takes in a breath to speak, stirring the air with her lungs, that he suddenly reanimates.
One second he's motionless, the next he's clawed his way upright and looking wildly between Trevor and Sypha. They both pull back on reflex, gestures that would normally summon their respective weapons aborting halfway. Sypha rocks forward, reaching out to her friend.] Alucard! Are you all right? What happened? How did you get here?
[In her way, Sypha isn't wrong. This is an injury like the one that drove him to Gresit, but one where recovery isn't so easy. Oh, yes, it's simple to close oneself off to the world, but to heal? It isn't a matter of letting skin grow back and keeping a wound clean. It's the messiest sort of healing of all.
Alucard doesn't know how he looks at the moment. In truth, he hasn't paid attention to that detail lately. He can't recall how many days or weeks it's been. It's been days, hasn't it?
But then Sypha reaches out and his instinct is to back away. Recoil from even the idea of touch, because there's no trust there.]
[Sypha's never seen Alucard recoil from anything. Not his father's poisoned words, not the necessary evil of patricide, not the grim work of removing bodies from his childhood home, not any of it. She does not know what to make of this. A quick glance at Trevor shows he's on the same page, brows furiously knit together in confusion.]
Why are we--? [That's where they're going to start, is it? Sypha bites her lip. Well, fine, it's a fair enough question.] We ran into some...developments that worried us. For you. There are things you need to know about. A cult--
[She cuts herself off with a shake of her head. For a Speaker to be so disordered in the telling of a story is truly shameful, but she's running on 48 hours of straight wakefulness, 36 of which were spent squinting at faded text. Her brain is not what it should be.]
"We thought they must have gotten to you first." [Trevor says, sticking his hand palm-up beneath Alucard's nose. Daring him to grab on and be hoisted out of the coffin.]
[Alucard doesn't take the offered Belmont hand. Instead his eyes close, and he tries to settle back into the coffin. This was the original plan after all, to just sleep again. It only took a few months to happen.
He doesn't do much of anything. As if staying in the coffin, declaring himself dead already, will make it so. Will make both of them accept that this is what has happened and they are best off accepting it.]
They didn't. I'm here, and I intend to remain in this spot.
[They didn't but even with his shirt on, there's a scar around his neck that wasn't there before. He shifts, and the fabric of his tunic covers the scar again.]
The cult is destroyed if you are both here rather than fighting it.
[Strained as things have been between them these past few weeks, Sypha still knows exactly what Trevor will do the instant before he does it.
Whether she does nothing to stop him because she's a bad person or a tired one is up for debate.
Alucard sinks backward, eyes closing in a clear dismissal, and Trevor strikes. The hand he'd extended lashes out, grabbing Alucard by his crossed wrists and shirtfront.] "Oh you 'intend', do you? Meaning you climbed in here on your own in the first place? We've been tearing this place apart trying to find you, you horse's ass!"
[There's a hard knot of frustration in Sypha's throat that echoes Trevor's mood, but she knows her role. When he gets like this, she counterbalances. Bad cop, good cop. Alucard will probably recognize the tactic, yet she can't help but step forward and settle her hand over Trevor's, over Alucard's.] We don't know the extent of this cult yet, but Alucard, they're receiving instructions from night creatures on how to pull your father from Hell. I realize that's a lot to take in right now, but, please. Whatever's going on with you, this isn't the best place to ride it out.
[Instinct and fear are terrible things. With Alucard, they come combined with his natural strength. Trevor grabs Alucard, and vampire strength takes over. He shoves at Trevor to get him away. There's no trust in anyone touching him right now.
Especially not a Belmont. Not a family of vampire hunters. No. He can't know if there isn't harm there.]
Let go.
[It's a demand. One that isn't confident. It's frightened, and that's a new note for Alucard.
He barely registers Sypha's words. Something's happened, Dracula's involved and you know what? He can't make himself care right now.]
Just take what you need from the Hold. If he returns, he'll come here first.
[There's tired resignation in his response. Whatever. This is the least awful thing that could happen at this point.]
[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.]
[He can't say nothing happened because that's a lie and they both already know something's wrong. But to voice it? That's too great a task. He can barely make sense of how it all went so wrong, and yet here he is being asked to explain what happened.
Alucard closes his eyes. Turns in the coffin, his back away from them both.]
I can't speak of it.
[That much is a truth. A painful one, but still true. They can accuse him of refusing to talk, but he isn't lying either by claiming nothing happened at all.
It won't be a welcome answer. But it places the ball in their corner, and that's about all Alucard can do right now.]
All right. [She slips into her 'coaxing an injured cat out from under a wagon' voice, her 'the first time Trevor woke her with his screaming nightmares' voice. It might be patronizing, if Alucard weren't so sunken in this dark headspace.] I won't ask you to, then.
But can you come out of the coffin? [Her voice doesn't even wobble on the word 'coffin', which Sypha feels should earn her some points. Perhaps a pastry. Definitely a reprieve from this terrible room.] Your shirt's ruined, we should get you another one.
[That's Alucard for no and it's a downright miracle that he doesn't reach up to close the lid on himself. It's also a sign of how well and truly far gone he is, as he doesn't even pick up on Sypha's tone. In better times, he'd scoff. As if Sypha was talking to an adult or a scared dog.
[A breath stirs the room, like earlier. This time it's Trevor, and Sypha whips a look over her shoulder fit to freeze the blood in his veins. He locks up, but the stare he shoots back in response speaks volumes.
Don't she silently urges. Don't open your big Belmont mouth now, of all times.
Fine says the flat line of Trevor's mouth. But I'm not leaving. His gaze slips sideways, to Alucard, tinged with worry and wariness both. Sypha hates that she understands where he's coming from. She wouldn't leave Trevor alone with him right now, either.]
I can't do that. [She risks settling her hands on the coffin's lip.] Because when you say 'let me rest', what I'm hearing is 'leave me alone'. And I won't do that, Alucard. We never should have left you alone in the first place.
[He has an idea of where her hand is. He presses up against the side of the coffin opposite of where Sypha is standing, although it isn't terribly comfortable. For now it'll do.]
I want quiet. And to not argue about that.
[Because all three of them? They are stubborn. Fighters. Alucard is not so far in his own head to know that this won't be a fight to some degree. The extent is the only question.]
[Her fingers curl back, tucked against her palm. He shifts away from her like a frightened survivor hiding away in the rubble of a raid. Everything in her wants to reach out and pull him free, but she holds herself still.]
All right. We'll be quiet. Like you said, we have work to do in the Hold and the library. Just come out of here with us.
[He knows them. They'll drag him out tomorrow if he doesn't come along willingly. Alucard doesn't care. He can take the day to figure out how to be human shaped. But not right now. Not today.]
Tomorrow, then. [God, she wants to take his hand, smooth his hair back, run cool fingers over those angry looking red lines. But that's not what he's telling her he needs right now, so she stands up and steps back to Trevor's side.] Is there anything particular you'd like to eat for supper tomorrow?
[He wins a tomorrow. That feels like a very slight miracle, because there was a very strong chance they'd just pick him up now and hurl him into the--
--daylight? Moonlight? He genuinely has no sense of time at this point and Alucard is more than fine with that. He shouldn't be but that is the horrible truth of it.
Sypha's footsteps move away. Good.]
No. Thank you.
[Food's not as much a priority as it was.
He is polite enough not to close the coffin lid yet though. That can wait until the other two are gone. There will be mutters of rude if he does.]
[She restricts herself to a nod of acknowledgement as she takes Trevor's arm. He's rigid and unyielding in her grip, such that it takes real effort to turn him away from the coffin. If he had his way, he'd probably drag Alucard hissing and scratching from the damned thing. It may yet come to that, if that 'tomorrow' doesn't manifest as promised.]
Goodnight, Alucard.
[They exit the - call it what it is - sepulcher. Sypha opens her mouth, but Trevor silences her with a raised hand and a shake of his head. It's not until they've climbed two full floors that he relaxes his shoulders somewhat and nods.] "He probably can't hear us now." [Oh. She hadn't even thought about that. Her mouth quirks in a small, tired smile of thanks.]
I was just going to say, we should...do something about those bodies. Before he joins us tomorrow.
[Trevor rubs at his mouth and frowns at nothing as they walk.] "Do you expect him to?"
[The coffin lid shuts when the door shuts behind Trevor and Sypha. Alucard unsticks himself from the side, his heart slowing down by just a hair. He is so tired. He's going to regret this. Really drive them away and--
--and even this much has left him exhausted. Exhausted and encased in the safest part of the castle, where if nothing else, he's safe for one more day. Or night. Whatever it is. All Alucard knows is that sleep claims him and holds him fast.
He's learned that dreams don't enter the coffin's space. It is the first time he hasn't had dreams in months and it still feels so good. So safe. A place where his own head can't get to him, and that's all thanks to his father's careful spellwork and disdain for humanity.
Maybe that'll come through in the next few days. Then they'll leave and he can stay in that coffin until otherwise demanded to emerge. Some stubborness can be defeated, if things have well and truly changed.
Alucard honors the agreement though. Tomorrow comes, and with the setting sun, he finds his way to the kitchen. He's found a clean shirt and trousers for good measure, but that's it. When he walks in, there's no eye contact. He looks only ever ahead, because to have his face downward is far worse.]
As agreed.
[His voice is thick and heavy. It showed some yesterday, but he's not used to talking these days.]
[Trevor's the one who cuts the bodies down the next morning. Sypha burns them, well away from the castle's walls and the well-used footpaths to and from the river. Their faces are mostly gone even before she touches flame to their hair - pecked away by crows and buzzards, most likely. Yet Sypha can't help but notice the razor sharp incisions nearly bisecting their necks. The edges of the cuts have barely gone ragged at all, despite the rot that's set in elsewhere.
Later, after they've gone inside and washed up, Sypha speaks up against the voice inside that whispers to let it be.] You saw the wounds? If no one else was ever here...
[Trevor grunts and prods at some salt pork and onions sizzling in a pan] "Sure that's a scab you want to pick at, Sypha? Might not like the answer."
[Her stomach gives a sour twist as she digs through the cabinets for cups and plates. How much ugly truth can she stomach in a month's time? Yet, the Alucard she's sure she knew was a gentle soul at heart. She'd not be surprised that he'd defended himself to the death, but to stake out the bodies like that...
The meal's just about finished when Alucard appears, silent and present as a wraith. Sypha tries to catch his eye, the smile falling from her face when he refuses to interact beyond simply being there. She takes a breath and tries to reach for something still and steady within herself.] As agreed, thank you. Hungry?
[That's the nice thing about the coffin, it takes care of important things like that.
He doesn't move to sit. He doesn't meet their eyes. In truth, he doesn't do much of anything beyond exist in their general vicinity, certain that he no longer ought to be a part of their lives. To resort so quickly to his father's ways when threatened with his life, that is unforgiveable. That much he knows for sure.
An awkward, horrible thing, that's what he is. Staring at the floor, wanting to crawl out of his own skin rather than interact with what used to be the two most important people in the world. They still are, but oh. He doesn't deserve them now.]
[Good thing they'd mostly finished with their meal, or they'd be stuck marinating in this agonizing awkwardness until sunrise. Sypha tips her dirty dish into the washbasin and studies her boys a moment longer.
Alucard stares fixedly away, but Trevor shoots her a look that she'd call 'imploring' on anyone else. On him, it's like a slightly sadder kind of constipation. She takes a fortifying breath.]
I know you asked for quiet, and I want to respect that, but does that mean you don't want us to talk to you at all? You have met me.
[The concept of losing one's words is so alien, Sypha physically can't help the bemused way her head quirks to the side. She doesn't quite understand the way Trevor's expression flattens into something like comprehension, either, but she's relieved one of them gets what's going on.]
That's all right. [It's really not!! Nothing about this is 'right' at all, but the tension in the kitchen could snap at any moment if pushed.] I only asked because you were right, we do need to do some research, and I thought you might like to come with us? Trevor's going to the Hold, but I found some interesting leads in the castle's library while looking up that locator spell.
[This is the first Trevor's hearing about poking around in the Hold, but he nods agreement anyway. They won't necessarily cover more ground if they divide and conquer, but perhaps Alucard will be more comfortable with either of them one-on-one, instead of perceiving them as an opposed and united front.]
[A Speaker being okay with a lack of language is the biggest lie Alucard's ever heard. But he also registers on some level that it's Sypha making a real attempt to meet him where he's standing right now. Wherever that is and--
--he has no real opportunity to slip off alone, does he? The only thing he actually wants to do, and the absolutely impossible thing. It hurts to not be able to do that, but Alucard knows better than to let it show.
Divide and conquer. It's a little safer than together and conquer, isn't it?
So long as there's a door nearby that's open. That will have to do. Play along for a little while and trust that they'll depart soon.]
If you insist.
[She will. Sypha is still a force of nature and always will be.]
I'll show you how to search the collection, then let you work.
Excellent! [Sypha claps her hands together and abandons the dishes utterly. Trevor shoots them the despairing look of a man too often left with dish-duty, which Sypha ruthlessly ignores.
On reflex, she reaches out to take Alucard's arm in her hands, but remembers his wounded behavior in the coffin and snatches them back at the last moment. If only she still had her voluminous sleeves; they were a pain in the ass to keep clean, but they hid her fidgeting beautifully.] Let's be off then, shall we? I, ah, may have left things a little disorderly yesterday.
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For that's what this has to be. Dracula's resting place. Even more so than the bedroom they turned over yesterday. Sypha's belly twists at the thought of how Alucard ended up within it. Was he forced? Or so badly injured he had no other choice, like when he retreated to Gresit?
The lid swings away and for a split second she and Trevor just...look. They take in the sunken eyes, the unwashed shirt, the crescents of dirt embedded under his nails. Alucard never looked so unkempt even when they were a week on the road in the dead of winter. And he was never so unaware of another presence. It's not until Sypha takes in a breath to speak, stirring the air with her lungs, that he suddenly reanimates.
One second he's motionless, the next he's clawed his way upright and looking wildly between Trevor and Sypha. They both pull back on reflex, gestures that would normally summon their respective weapons aborting halfway. Sypha rocks forward, reaching out to her friend.] Alucard! Are you all right? What happened? How did you get here?
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Alucard doesn't know how he looks at the moment. In truth, he hasn't paid attention to that detail lately. He can't recall how many days or weeks it's been. It's been days, hasn't it?
But then Sypha reaches out and his instinct is to back away. Recoil from even the idea of touch, because there's no trust there.]
I'm fine. [A lie, obviously.]
Why are you both here?
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Why are we--? [That's where they're going to start, is it? Sypha bites her lip. Well, fine, it's a fair enough question.] We ran into some...developments that worried us. For you. There are things you need to know about. A cult--
[She cuts herself off with a shake of her head. For a Speaker to be so disordered in the telling of a story is truly shameful, but she's running on 48 hours of straight wakefulness, 36 of which were spent squinting at faded text. Her brain is not what it should be.]
"We thought they must have gotten to you first." [Trevor says, sticking his hand palm-up beneath Alucard's nose. Daring him to grab on and be hoisted out of the coffin.]
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He doesn't do much of anything. As if staying in the coffin, declaring himself dead already, will make it so. Will make both of them accept that this is what has happened and they are best off accepting it.]
They didn't. I'm here, and I intend to remain in this spot.
[They didn't but even with his shirt on, there's a scar around his neck that wasn't there before. He shifts, and the fabric of his tunic covers the scar again.]
The cult is destroyed if you are both here rather than fighting it.
Close the lid, please.
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Whether she does nothing to stop him because she's a bad person or a tired one is up for debate.
Alucard sinks backward, eyes closing in a clear dismissal, and Trevor strikes. The hand he'd extended lashes out, grabbing Alucard by his crossed wrists and shirtfront.] "Oh you 'intend', do you? Meaning you climbed in here on your own in the first place? We've been tearing this place apart trying to find you, you horse's ass!"
[There's a hard knot of frustration in Sypha's throat that echoes Trevor's mood, but she knows her role. When he gets like this, she counterbalances. Bad cop, good cop. Alucard will probably recognize the tactic, yet she can't help but step forward and settle her hand over Trevor's, over Alucard's.] We don't know the extent of this cult yet, but Alucard, they're receiving instructions from night creatures on how to pull your father from Hell. I realize that's a lot to take in right now, but, please. Whatever's going on with you, this isn't the best place to ride it out.
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Especially not a Belmont. Not a family of vampire hunters. No. He can't know if there isn't harm there.]
Let go.
[It's a demand. One that isn't confident. It's frightened, and that's a new note for Alucard.
He barely registers Sypha's words. Something's happened, Dracula's involved and you know what? He can't make himself care right now.]
Just take what you need from the Hold. If he returns, he'll come here first.
[There's tired resignation in his response. Whatever. This is the least awful thing that could happen at this point.]
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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.
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Alucard closes his eyes. Turns in the coffin, his back away from them both.]
I can't speak of it.
[That much is a truth. A painful one, but still true. They can accuse him of refusing to talk, but he isn't lying either by claiming nothing happened at all.
It won't be a welcome answer. But it places the ball in their corner, and that's about all Alucard can do right now.]
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But can you come out of the coffin? [Her voice doesn't even wobble on the word 'coffin', which Sypha feels should earn her some points. Perhaps a pastry. Definitely a reprieve from this terrible room.] Your shirt's ruined, we should get you another one.
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[That's Alucard for no and it's a downright miracle that he doesn't reach up to close the lid on himself. It's also a sign of how well and truly far gone he is, as he doesn't even pick up on Sypha's tone. In better times, he'd scoff. As if Sypha was talking to an adult or a scared dog.
He's definitely a scared, feral thing right now.]
Let me rest.
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Don't she silently urges. Don't open your big Belmont mouth now, of all times.
Fine says the flat line of Trevor's mouth. But I'm not leaving. His gaze slips sideways, to Alucard, tinged with worry and wariness both. Sypha hates that she understands where he's coming from. She wouldn't leave Trevor alone with him right now, either.]
I can't do that. [She risks settling her hands on the coffin's lip.] Because when you say 'let me rest', what I'm hearing is 'leave me alone'. And I won't do that, Alucard. We never should have left you alone in the first place.
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I want quiet. And to not argue about that.
[Because all three of them? They are stubborn. Fighters. Alucard is not so far in his own head to know that this won't be a fight to some degree. The extent is the only question.]
Please.
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All right. We'll be quiet. Like you said, we have work to do in the Hold and the library. Just come out of here with us.
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[He knows them. They'll drag him out tomorrow if he doesn't come along willingly. Alucard doesn't care. He can take the day to figure out how to be human shaped. But not right now. Not today.]
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--daylight? Moonlight? He genuinely has no sense of time at this point and Alucard is more than fine with that. He shouldn't be but that is the horrible truth of it.
Sypha's footsteps move away. Good.]
No. Thank you.
[Food's not as much a priority as it was.
He is polite enough not to close the coffin lid yet though. That can wait until the other two are gone. There will be mutters of rude if he does.]
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Goodnight, Alucard.
[They exit the - call it what it is - sepulcher. Sypha opens her mouth, but Trevor silences her with a raised hand and a shake of his head. It's not until they've climbed two full floors that he relaxes his shoulders somewhat and nods.] "He probably can't hear us now." [Oh. She hadn't even thought about that. Her mouth quirks in a small, tired smile of thanks.]
I was just going to say, we should...do something about those bodies. Before he joins us tomorrow.
[Trevor rubs at his mouth and frowns at nothing as they walk.] "Do you expect him to?"
I suppose we'll find out.
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--and even this much has left him exhausted. Exhausted and encased in the safest part of the castle, where if nothing else, he's safe for one more day. Or night. Whatever it is. All Alucard knows is that sleep claims him and holds him fast.
He's learned that dreams don't enter the coffin's space. It is the first time he hasn't had dreams in months and it still feels so good. So safe. A place where his own head can't get to him, and that's all thanks to his father's careful spellwork and disdain for humanity.
Maybe that'll come through in the next few days. Then they'll leave and he can stay in that coffin until otherwise demanded to emerge. Some stubborness can be defeated, if things have well and truly changed.
Alucard honors the agreement though. Tomorrow comes, and with the setting sun, he finds his way to the kitchen. He's found a clean shirt and trousers for good measure, but that's it. When he walks in, there's no eye contact. He looks only ever ahead, because to have his face downward is far worse.]
As agreed.
[His voice is thick and heavy. It showed some yesterday, but he's not used to talking these days.]
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Later, after they've gone inside and washed up, Sypha speaks up against the voice inside that whispers to let it be.] You saw the wounds? If no one else was ever here...
[Trevor grunts and prods at some salt pork and onions sizzling in a pan] "Sure that's a scab you want to pick at, Sypha? Might not like the answer."
[Her stomach gives a sour twist as she digs through the cabinets for cups and plates. How much ugly truth can she stomach in a month's time? Yet, the Alucard she's sure she knew was a gentle soul at heart. She'd not be surprised that he'd defended himself to the death, but to stake out the bodies like that...
The meal's just about finished when Alucard appears, silent and present as a wraith. Sypha tries to catch his eye, the smile falling from her face when he refuses to interact beyond simply being there. She takes a breath and tries to reach for something still and steady within herself.] As agreed, thank you. Hungry?
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[That's the nice thing about the coffin, it takes care of important things like that.
He doesn't move to sit. He doesn't meet their eyes. In truth, he doesn't do much of anything beyond exist in their general vicinity, certain that he no longer ought to be a part of their lives. To resort so quickly to his father's ways when threatened with his life, that is unforgiveable. That much he knows for sure.
An awkward, horrible thing, that's what he is. Staring at the floor, wanting to crawl out of his own skin rather than interact with what used to be the two most important people in the world. They still are, but oh. He doesn't deserve them now.]
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Alucard stares fixedly away, but Trevor shoots her a look that she'd call 'imploring' on anyone else. On him, it's like a slightly sadder kind of constipation. She takes a fortifying breath.]
I know you asked for quiet, and I want to respect that, but does that mean you don't want us to talk to you at all? You have met me.
[A weak joke, but better than the silence.]
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Words are difficult right now, Sypha.
[Meeting a joke with honesty is a choice, one Alucard isn't sure that's right to make. But he does it all the same, unsure and awkward and awful.]
I can't assure you I'll be able to respond.
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That's all right. [It's really not!! Nothing about this is 'right' at all, but the tension in the kitchen could snap at any moment if pushed.] I only asked because you were right, we do need to do some research, and I thought you might like to come with us? Trevor's going to the Hold, but I found some interesting leads in the castle's library while looking up that locator spell.
[This is the first Trevor's hearing about poking around in the Hold, but he nods agreement anyway. They won't necessarily cover more ground if they divide and conquer, but perhaps Alucard will be more comfortable with either of them one-on-one, instead of perceiving them as an opposed and united front.]
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--he has no real opportunity to slip off alone, does he? The only thing he actually wants to do, and the absolutely impossible thing. It hurts to not be able to do that, but Alucard knows better than to let it show.
Divide and conquer. It's a little safer than together and conquer, isn't it?
So long as there's a door nearby that's open. That will have to do. Play along for a little while and trust that they'll depart soon.]
If you insist.
[She will. Sypha is still a force of nature and always will be.]
I'll show you how to search the collection, then let you work.
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On reflex, she reaches out to take Alucard's arm in her hands, but remembers his wounded behavior in the coffin and snatches them back at the last moment. If only she still had her voluminous sleeves; they were a pain in the ass to keep clean, but they hid her fidgeting beautifully.] Let's be off then, shall we? I, ah, may have left things a little disorderly yesterday.
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