cryptsleeper | Catch All II

[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.]

What happened? Please.

[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.

It's a shirt. It's fine.

[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.

[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.]

Please.

[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.

Tomorrow.

[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?"

I suppose we'll find out.

[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?

I am not, thank you.

[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.

[A weak joke, but better than the silence.]

[It's a terrible joke. But it gets a noise of some sort from the dhampir, if only to acknowledge that Sypha is right.]

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.

[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.

--How disorderly?

[That tone is wary, but without all the other wariness he has worn so openly since the other two arrived.

It's impossible for Alucard to not notice the reflex. He notices all their movements now, and that Sypha is making a genuine attempt to dial back her instincts? He wants to be comforted by it. But all it does instead is raise further alarm bells.]

And how long were you in there for?

Just slightly! [She holds her thumb and forefinger up to her eye, an inch or so apart. The alarm on Alucard's face is a huge improvement from the slack mask he's worn up til now. It reminds her of the way he'd looked at her when he asked where she'd transported the Castle.

Ah, better days.

This particular kitchen isn't too far from the library - it occupies the same wing, anyway, which is exactly what Sypha would have chosen for herself if she'd been the one tasked with protecting this trove. Alucard's footsteps are, as always, silent, while her own shoes tap tap tap rapidly alongside.]

Hmmm, a night and most of the next day, I think. It's hard to tell with the curtains permanently drawn, you know?

[Slightly, she claims, and Alucard doesn't believe her for a second. He frowns at the claim.

Frowns and then starts to move to the library, debating the wisdom of just floating rather than walking. It is tempting, but not inclined to happen now.]

You could have opened them.

[More than that though--]

How many books did you go through?

Those windows are as tall as six of me, Alucard. [This is a simple observation, not an invitation to make a short joke at her expense. That much fabric is heavy, and she'd been in a hurry!

Everything in Dracula's castle tends towards grandeur. If it wasn't so well designed and constructed, the place would be a nightmare to try and manipulate. But the massive library doors open as easily as the coffin lid had yesterday, and the endless rows of bookshelves are well in order. It occurs to her then, as it hadn't before, that Alucard must have returned it to order early on.]

Mmm...I can't recall. I was a little preoccupied. I thought--well, we thought--that you'd been abducted or...something.

[Her current theories are even wilder. Those red marks on his neck, chest, and wrists? What caused them? Had he been so badly injured that he'd needed to drag himself into a coffin, as he had once before? It kills her not to have all the answers at her fingertips! Sypha curls her hands into fists and plants them on her hips.] And there are just so many, I started to take a sampling from every third shelf to try and direct my search!

And you couldn't look up a floating spell?

[The library was the library, after all.

Alucard quietly trails into the library, looking over his little book kingdom. It looks fairly orderly, but--

--then Sypha explains herself, and there's a very heavy sigh. There are too many third shelves in the library to even begin to deal with that, and so Alucard decides not to even try. He instead takes a sharp right towards a small cabinet of drawers.]

This is the search mechanism. What is it you were looking for the other day? I'll show you how it works on that.

[He's only focused on the practical at the moment. Directing searches and information. Never asking after the other two, never inviting Sypha to question him.]

I. Was. Distracted!

[Take the time to float up and fix the curtains when they thought their friend could be dead, or dying, in need of their help? Does he think so little of her, or of himself?

She steps up at his elbow to study the mechanism, which looks like nothing so much as an apothecary's cabinet.] Location spells. This one, specifically.

[Sypha cups her hands into a lattice of fingers and thinks of Trevor, summons the feelings he stirs in her chest into her palms, and lets them pool in a gleaming sphere. That flick-twist gesture splits it into a skein of thread, which zips back out the door.

From down the hall, a dish crashes, and a faint voice yelps "HEY!"]

Very handy. I'm sure it will come in useful in the future!

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