Catch All II

[cryptsleeper]

Comments

[cryptsleeper]

Of course I have. I wasn't about to let anyone just wander into this home unknown and unresearched.

[Alucard nudges Hector's leg with his foot.]

Your being missing would be a public scandal and embarrassment, which I think everyone is keen to avoid at this point at night. Plus I think we can both agree Cezar travels safer in darkness.

[petcromancer]

Mmmmmm, no.

[You're making valid points, Alucard, but counter-point: this couch is very comfy.]

Neighbors are used t' me being out late. I'm 'absent-minded' and 'lose track of time' while I'm studying.

[And Cezar is used to traveling hidden in a basket during daytime. It's fucking adorable.]

[cryptsleeper]

[Okay, puppy in a basket is a strong, strong argument Hector.

But Alucard really wants some sleep. He doesn't move, frown growing in size as he glares down at Hector.]

And I'm used to not being awake right now. Please let me see you home.

[petcromancer]

[Hector sighs. Alucard is just going to keep pestering him, huh?]

Will you at least call a carriage? 'm not sure I can walk all the way home.

[A vampire could fly, or turn into mist, or whatever other such fuckery. Hector only has his legs, or the legs he reanimates, and he's been strictly forbidden by multiple people from using any of those within the city limits.]

[cryptsleeper]

I'm almost certain carriages aren't running at the moment.

[Well.  Hm.  There's an idea, and Alucard's face almost lights up.  Almost.

What he does next is reach down to haul Hector up by the shoulders, and forces him to look steady(ish.)]

Come on, we'll try out the fake carriage.

[Car.  He means Dracula made a car with a fake robo horse in the front.]

[petcromancer]

[Against Alucard's nearly vampiric strength, Hector's drugged body has no chance of resistance. He's dragged up off of the couch. Cezar slips off of him and bounces on the couch with a startled yip.]

Hey!

...

How's a fake carriage supposed to help?

[He has no idea what he's in for, but his curiosity is beginning to peak through the opium-induced lethargy.]

[cryptsleeper]

For the-- you'll see.

[Alucard's pretty sure this opium haze will obscure much of Hector's memory, so he has no problems dragging the necromancer through the portions of the house no one sees. Through corridors of pipes and boilers, along a set of stairs that lead underground, and until they get to well, a garage.

In the middle of it is a carriage - a proper one, looking a little too suspiciously of the era. Hitched to it is a horse, ready and waiting. Except it is hardly a horse, just a robot. It and the carriage are detailed in Dracula's prefference for red and black with golden accents, striking bold gold lines that herald the art deco trend to come in the centuries.

Unceremoniously, Hector gets shoved into the carriage proper. It's a comfortable enough thing with leather seats, the windows tinted to help minimize the sun.]

The carriage is fake only in so much as the horse is fake.

[petcromancer]

[Hector doesn't really have much choice about being unceremoniously hauled through the building. Cezar trots behind them, tiny feet moving quickly to keep up with Alucard's long steps. The dhampir's arm is like iron around Hector... which isn't unpleasant, but is incredibly frustrating.

They reach the coach house, and Hector is tossed inside a very real carriage. It's too high for Cezar to follow, so he sits beneath the door and yips at Alucard expectantly. Uppies for puppy.

Hector untangles his limbs and ends up sprawled out on the carriage seat, half sitting, half lounging.]

Why the fuck would you want a fake horse. Horses are delightful.

[Stoned Hector can't think of a single instance where a machine would be preferable to a flesh and blood horse.]

[cryptsleeper]

[Uppies for puppy granted! And belt buckles for both puppy and Hector, which Alucard takes a moment to secure. Cezar he isn't as worried about. Hector? That's the concern.

He gives up at the sprawl. Alucard shakes his head before moving to the driver's seat. He buckles in as well, and then?

Then the engine hums to life. It doesn't roar. It doesn't kick. There is simply the sudden sense of life in the machine, and Alucard grins just a little at Hector. It is so smug.]

This would draw too much attention otherwise. You ready?

[petcromancer]

[Hector sulks, partially tangled up in the belt. He likes horses.]

What makes it move? It doesn't feel magical.

[He's groggy, but he's got a decent sense for magic. It must be one of those mechanical devices the other vampires allege Dracula makes.]

[cryptsleeper]

Steam. Hold onto Cezar if he shifts too much.

[And there. A door opens, revealing Bucharest just as the sun begins to peak over the city spires. This is not a part of the city with a great Muslim population, and so calls to prayer are a thin, distant noise. The mechanical horse makes a rather convincing whinny as they all emerge into the sunlight, and Alucard urges the thing onward.

The streets are as bumpy as one might expect, but their blows made softer for the cushioning of rich red velvet beneath them both.]

He's proud of this one. I can't say I blame him.

[petcromancer]

[Cesar immediately wiggles out of the belt and puts his nose to the side window. Hector lets out a long-suffering sigh and hooks an arm around his squirming torso.]

If he has a problem with horses, I could help him out. Make him something sturdy, that can see in the dark, and could pass for a horse at night time...

[The carriage is impressive, he guesses, but Hector still thinks there's no good purpose behind it.]

Does he know you're taking it out?

[cryptsleeper]

[At lease someone can appreciate the novelty!]

Hector, it isn't about not liking horses. It's about the experiment.

[Really Hector, he has to explain that to you of all people????

Alucard's grin widens just a little bit more at the question.]

He does not.

[petcromancer]

[Alucard, are you surprised that Hector is clueless about anything that falls outside of his very narrow specialty?]

I'll experiment and build him a better horse. [He grumbles.

He can't help but huff out a laugh, though.]

So you're not always the perfect, dutiful son, hmmm?

[Anyone who knew Alucard only through interactions at the salon wouldn't expect such rebellion out of him.]

[cryptsleeper]

[Alucard sighs, giving up on the horse thing.  Hector's stubborn, the opium helps nothing, and he doesn't care about the mechanical world in the first place.  Why explain the beauty of something so inorganic to a man whose trade is dirt and bone?
But the question does get a little laugh from the dhampir.  Soft, genuinely tickled.]

Is that what you think of me?

[petcromancer]

Maybe before tonight. But talking with your father was quite illuminating.

[Eventually their opium-fueled debate had spiraled into all of them complaining about various annoyances in their lives, and Dracula has had some words about his upstart of a child. There was still love in his voice, which had been a novelty for Hector-- who knew paternal bonds came in that variety?-- but also plenty of exacerbation.]

Did you really break through a wall in his castle to steal a pot roast?

[cryptsleeper]

[The sigh Alucard gives is put upon, but in a way that's still warm and so very, very unsurprised.]

Of course he shared the pot roast story. [Every. Single. Time.] He did explain that I was all of five years old and hadn't quite gotten a good understanding on how to use my vampiric abilities, correct?

[It is a terrible defense, but damnit, it's the only one he's got.]

[petcromancer]

[Hector actually chuckles. His head is pounding, but in spite of that, this is almost? fun???]

No, to hear him speak, you would think it happened earlier this year.

[Teasing? Yes. But also not too far from the truth. A quirk of vampires and other immortals- they tend to talk about all lengths of time the same way. Days ago, years ago, centuries ago- Who can recall?]

So there's no chance of you finding us some hidden meal in some dark corridor. Damn it. I'm starving.

[cryptsleeper]

Vampires hold grudges for centuries Hector. That doesn't surprise me.

[Hector's like, a baby, compared to all his fellows. But Alucard can roll with it, very literally in this case, turning a corner and smiling just faintly as a drunk rambling along the street stops to double take at their conveyance.]

If you think the staff'll be asleep, I could at least fix you a cheese plate.

[He's smirking at that offer but y'know. Kind of serious.]

[petcromancer]

[Excuse you, Hector is a very mature and wise opium-addled corpse-rearranger.]

Right, you really do like feeding people, huh? Even though most people you meet don't even need to eat.

[Careful there, Hector might think Alucard actually likes him.]

[cryptsleeper]

[Seems fake.]

My mother instilled in me a strong sense of hospitality.

[Actually, he should ask...] How much did she come up in your little get together?

[petcromancer]

[Hector leans his head back against the seat of the carriage.]

Umm, let me see. Three sonnets, a hour-long monologue about her theory on disease prevention, and one truly awful organ piece composed in honor of 'her hair on a moonlit winter's night'.

[One thing he definitely knows about the mysterious Lord Dracula is that the man is smitten with his wife.]

[cryptsleeper]

[Alucard cringes, but doesn't even try to hold back the laugh that comes out. It's genuine. Delighted. Horrified.]

The organ is the worst part, isn't it? [Oh Hector smitten is an understatement.] I've never understood how she managed to sit through piece after piece.

[petcromancer]

Well, I can definitely say that drugs don't make it any more tolerable. Under other circumstances, I'd say she must have the patience of a saint.

[Just that one minor technicality of consorting with demons, whoops.]

There's no chance she was secretly hard of hearing, is there?

[cryptsleeper]

I mean, over the years the organ might've caused it.

[Alucard falls silent for just a moment, forcing the car to do another turn. The buildings outside the window take a turn for the grander. Far fancier than needed.]

He'd write a hagiography of her if wouldn't cause him to burst into flames.