[ As the lock clicks back into place his gaze shifts to Alucard again, uncertain. Confused, actually - because he's not in the right state of mind to understand what he means by I've been there before when they both know Alucard doesn't have the same hunger as a full vampire. Or a spawn.
There's a pause when Alucard makes the same offer to feed on him. ]
... you're certain?
[ He doesn't care where he latches on, though if left to his own devices he might've gone straight for his throat. As it stands, he's barely keeping himself from leaping from the bed to take what's being offered willingly, but there's a voice whispering in his ear. Weak, pathetic little boy.
He shuts his eyes and grits his teeth, the pain in his middle like a thousand hooks pulling him apart from the inside, briefly turning his hunger to nausea. ]
[Alucard walks over to the bed, aware that there's the risk of hunger becoming overwhelming. He hasn't armed himself. He doesn't need to, at least, he thinks he doesn't need to. Astarion has 200 years on him, it could be a small problem.
But now isn't the time. The left sleeve on Alucard's shirt is rolled up, and there's a wordless presentation of the arm. If this is going to happen, it happens now.]
If nothing else, if my blood is effective on your needs or not is good information to have.
[ His gaze flicks once more from Alucard's face to his arm. He barely registers shifting toward the edge of the mattress to grab hold of him, that same shrill voice of his master mocking him as he sinks his teeth into pale flesh - at the first taste of blood, though, the voice leaves. He closes his eyes and lets the warm liquid fill his mouth, his grip tightening on Alucard's arm.
The pain starts to slip further away. His head feels lighter - buzzing pleasantly.
He'll go on like this, swallowing down his blood like a man dying of thirst, until Alucard pushes him off. ]
[One of the very, very few things that Alucard will give that fever dream of 800 years credit for is getting him ready for a moment of vampire-bites-dhampir. He remembers needle sharp teeth, but never with the need for hunger like now. Still. The pain is easy enough to contend with, and he does not panic about it. That has to count for...something? with all his memories back in place, but now isn't the time to contemplate such matters.
Alucard counts the seconds in his head. Thirty seconds is fine. He anticipated that thirty seconds would not set him back, even if the hunger in Astarion's eyes was more than he could calculate.
A minute passes. The faintest hint of something swimming just behind Alucard's eyes descends. That was the sign Alucard gave himself that he'd need to think about asking Astarion to pause, and so he begins that process with a gentle hand to the vampire's shoulder.]
I'm starting to feel the loss. If you let go, we can see how quickly I can regenerate the blood.
[His tone is calm but no less sharp for it, meant to cut through any all consuming thoughts of hunger.]
[ Alucard's voice sounds distant, though he does hear it - and he feels the gentle touch against his shoulder. There's a moment that seems to signal he's received the message where he almost seems to pause, but a sudden fear grips his chest at the thought of letting go, as if all that pain will rush back in and overwhelm him again the moment he stops - if he could just have a little more -
It'll become clear when he has no other reaction that Alucard might need to shove him away. ]
[The need to shove becomes apparent in how the pause shifts in tone. There is a thin patina of fear in it, and that smell is as sharp as the iron that is in the room. Alucard accounted for the possibility when he made this offer and calculated it again before sitting down. With how they are sat presently, all he needs to do is use his free hand as a wedge between his arm and Astarion's face, grab the man's fangs, and lift upwards.
Which is precisely what he moves to do. That free hand considers the way that Astarion's mouth has latched onto Alucard's arm like a vacuum seal, then begins the careful work of excavation. His nails extend first, working to inch their way underneath and eventually he manages to get a finger in.
This next part - the lift - is what Alucard worries about. He has one hand, Astarion has two and a deep, deep hunger. But he begins to lift that finger all the same, bracing himself for the backlash.]
[ More than the touch and the sound of Alucard's voice, sudden fingernails working into his mouth from the side and lifting is jarring enough to successfully jolt him out of his feeding haze. ]
Oh, ugh - fuck?!
[ He detaches at once, blood dripping down his lips and his expression twisted into a confused snarl, but he's let go of Alucard's arm with his hands as well. ]
[Two things happen next in rapid succession. The first is that any marks from Astarion's fangs that would have been opened and allow blood to drain out close without missing a beat. There were never fangs there, the only issue is the blood running down in little rivulets from the fleeting moment that teeth left flesh and Alucard's body had to react to the puncture.
The second is that Alucard absolutely falls back onto the bed itself, first light headed and then just out entirely, having miscalculated exactly how fast a hungry vampire might drain blood. There is no time for him to even consider if the experiment has been effective, he's just sprawled out and looking nearly as pale as Astarion, rather than his half-dead skin tone.]
[ He recovers quickly, the pain in his belly barely perceivable for the moment, his whole body buzzing pleasantly despite just having had his mouth wrenched open. And there's Alucard, lying on his back. ]
Oh - don't be dramatic now...
[ He didn't strike him - although, he does look quite paler than usual. Astarion gets on his knees on the mattress, hovering over him. ]
Alucard?
[ There's a faint touch of concern in his face, in his furrowed brow. A hand moves to shake his shoulder, the other lightly slapping his cheek. ]
[Alucard will absolutely laugh about this in a little bit, but such as it is, clawing back to consciousness is a bit more of a process than anticipated. For all of the rapid healing he as been gifted with from his father's side, it turns out that replenishing one's blood takes more than a few moments.
It, in fact, takes three minutes and forty two seconds, not that anyone is counting. In those three minutes, his chest rises and falls, color very slowly returns to his cheeks, and very carefully, his fingers begin to curl and uncurl, telegraphing any sort of metaphorical return from darkness that one might anticipate.
A fairly panicked but rather healthy-looking Astarion, holding his wrist over Alucard's face, blood about to drip from a horizontal cut into his mouth. He notices Alucard's eyes open with surprise and relief, but doesn't immediately remove his arm. ]
[Alucard groans lowly, placing forefinger and thumb to pinch at the bridge of his nose. It takes a moment more to ground him, although what really does it is the way that too-sharp iron hits his nose from Astarion's open wound.
Dryly, Alucard manages:]
Thank you, but I think I'm alright. We're really not having a good track rate with beds, are we?
He's quick to pull his arm away, a flicker of embarrassment crossing his features very briefly as he pulls away. ]
Speak for yourself - [ he counters - although he knows what he's referring to. This is quickly followed by a deep breath in and a sigh as he continues looking Alucard over with a hint of guilt in his expression. ]
I - apologize. I don't... I usually have better control.
[ He does, at least, feel better - minus the addition of guilt. His own wrist is still bleeding slightly, and he fusses over that for a moment. ]
[Alucard's laugh comes off as a bit of a wheeze, but his voice is less croaky than it was moments ago.]
Don't apologize. I figured it might happen. I'm actually sort of surprised that trying to pry you off worked. [But that isn't the point right now. Alucard doesn't move to sit up, but there. That's his voice entirely back to normal.]
[ Astarion takes the laughter as the good sign it is, rather than something to bristle about in his embarrassment. He pulls in a deep breath, smearing some of the trickling blood from the cut he'd made on his wrist with his thumb and resisting the urge to lick it. The wound is already healing, maybe a little faster than normal with the sudden influx of fresh blood in his system. For all the freedoms it's given him, the tadpole hampers his vampiric regeneration abilities for some reason. ]
It did, yes. [ To this he sounds relieved, but after a moment he touches his middle. ] But it's never quite held at bay for long.
[ He does have excellent control. One thing he can bitterly thank his master for, though the methods he wouldn't wish on anyone else. While it may seem like he means the urge itself, it's really the pain that comes with the hunger that he's speaking about. The hook in his belly, the constant gnawing like rats in his middle. ]
If you feel remotely more capable of functioning, then it's done what you've needed it to do.
[And Alucard's own blood has done just the same. He exhales and then climbs off the bed, eyes glancing around the room to take in the whole of the destruction. He pauses for just a moment, then looks back to Astarion.]
I can help you tidy up, if you'd like. No one would notice if I went and grabbed a broom for a bit.
[It is a task, and that's what Alucard would normally do in these circumstances. Find something to do. Something to focus on, occupy his mind.]
[ He feels more than remotely capable, although Astarion doesn't immediately stand up with Alucard. He watches him stand there in the middle of the room, looking handsome and elegant as usual despite the meager and messy state of this room.
With a deep sigh, he nods. ]
I suppose I should. [ Tidy up. He won't try to dissuade Alucard from helping either, even though this is barely a two person job. Maybe he genuinely appreciates the company. ]
I ought to start finally considering... new accommodations. [ Not that having his own room all these months hasn't been a luxury compared to what he came from, but... maybe it's time. ]
[There's some joke to make about when does a splinter count as a stake, but now is not the time or place. Instead, Alucard hangs onto the last word as his hand lingers on the door, clearly intent on actually getting that broom.]
In terms of just a new room, or more space to spread out?
[ He wrinkles his nose at the vampire joke and rolls his eyes, but for how long they knew each other in that other life, Alucard might get the sense of fondness behind the annoyance he projects. ]
More space - [ and he waves his hand at the door ] - go, I promise not to escape out the window.
[Alucard does in fact recognize a thin patina of fondness in all of it, and that? That is a pleasant surprise. It is the first time he's dealt with any positive recognition of the eight centuries that were not since all of them returned, and it is hard not to feel....he's not even sure how he feels. Like something halfway decent could come out of it.]
I'm holding you to it.
[He exits, returning a few moments later with a broom, dustpan, and an extra trash can which is absolutely not going to hold that much debris. The can goes down beside the nearest pile of pieces, and Alucard leans a bit more on the broom.]
Well, I guess the question about space collides with the question of living with another person, or would you still like to fall into certain bad jokes about vampires being territorial cats that hiss a lot?
[ When Alucard returns he'll find Astarion up on his feet, picking through the small mess he made - which includes the mildly spicy portrait Jaskier painted for him, the one with a single exposed nipple lovingly rendered. Thankfully, he didn't damage the canvas when he pulled it off the wall... he sets it back into place and raises an eyebrow at Alucard. ]
I am not moving into the cactus next door to yours, if that's what you're insinuating.
[ Look, exceptions can be made, he mostly takes issue with the cactus of it all... ]
I do. [ He agrees with a deep sigh, taking a step back to admire the art. ] Although I can't say Libertas calls to me... [ he may have done a fair amount of pickpocketing there when he first arrived... ] ... most of my work is either here in Cadens, or Aquila. [ He ducks down to retrieve a law book, some of the pages fall out. ]
Perhaps somewhere in Cadens would be best. With a view of the graveyard.
Libertas is best for visiting, I've found, and I'm fond of the place. [His eyes move over to the book, curious about the contents. Alucard's sight isn't so good as to be able to read from as far as he is, but he's curious and lets it be known with a soft
--Oh.
It's a genuine surprise, and in a good way.]
I can look around when I go there tonight and see if there's anything available. I've heard that the dead there sometimes howl in the middle of the night though. I trust that won't be a problem?
[ Astarion tosses the book onto his nightstand, gathering up the loose pages and shoving them back in without bothering to sort anything. ]
Oh - have I not mentioned? [ Maybe he did in their shared hallucination, but details fade fast. Anyway, fun fact: ] I don't actually sleep. A holdover from my elven heritage, we simply trance for a few hours and revive perfectly rested.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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There's a pause when Alucard makes the same offer to feed on him. ]
... you're certain?
[ He doesn't care where he latches on, though if left to his own devices he might've gone straight for his throat. As it stands, he's barely keeping himself from leaping from the bed to take what's being offered willingly, but there's a voice whispering in his ear. Weak, pathetic little boy.
He shuts his eyes and grits his teeth, the pain in his middle like a thousand hooks pulling him apart from the inside, briefly turning his hunger to nausea. ]
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[Alucard walks over to the bed, aware that there's the risk of hunger becoming overwhelming. He hasn't armed himself. He doesn't need to, at least, he thinks he doesn't need to. Astarion has 200 years on him, it could be a small problem.
But now isn't the time. The left sleeve on Alucard's shirt is rolled up, and there's a wordless presentation of the arm. If this is going to happen, it happens now.]
If nothing else, if my blood is effective on your needs or not is good information to have.
cw: vampire shit
The pain starts to slip further away. His head feels lighter - buzzing pleasantly.
He'll go on like this, swallowing down his blood like a man dying of thirst, until Alucard pushes him off. ]
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Alucard counts the seconds in his head. Thirty seconds is fine. He anticipated that thirty seconds would not set him back, even if the hunger in Astarion's eyes was more than he could calculate.
A minute passes. The faintest hint of something swimming just behind Alucard's eyes descends. That was the sign Alucard gave himself that he'd need to think about asking Astarion to pause, and so he begins that process with a gentle hand to the vampire's shoulder.]
I'm starting to feel the loss. If you let go, we can see how quickly I can regenerate the blood.
[His tone is calm but no less sharp for it, meant to cut through any all consuming thoughts of hunger.]
I did a saving throw for this and he FAILED
It'll become clear when he has no other reaction that Alucard might need to shove him away. ]
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Which is precisely what he moves to do. That free hand considers the way that Astarion's mouth has latched onto Alucard's arm like a vacuum seal, then begins the careful work of excavation. His nails extend first, working to inch their way underneath and eventually he manages to get a finger in.
This next part - the lift - is what Alucard worries about. He has one hand, Astarion has two and a deep, deep hunger. But he begins to lift that finger all the same, bracing himself for the backlash.]
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Oh, ugh - fuck?!
[ He detaches at once, blood dripping down his lips and his expression twisted into a confused snarl, but he's let go of Alucard's arm with his hands as well. ]
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The second is that Alucard absolutely falls back onto the bed itself, first light headed and then just out entirely, having miscalculated exactly how fast a hungry vampire might drain blood. There is no time for him to even consider if the experiment has been effective, he's just sprawled out and looking nearly as pale as Astarion, rather than his half-dead skin tone.]
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[ He recovers quickly, the pain in his belly barely perceivable for the moment, his whole body buzzing pleasantly despite just having had his mouth wrenched open. And there's Alucard, lying on his back. ]
Oh - don't be dramatic now...
[ He didn't strike him - although, he does look quite paler than usual. Astarion gets on his knees on the mattress, hovering over him. ]
Alucard?
[ There's a faint touch of concern in his face, in his furrowed brow. A hand moves to shake his shoulder, the other lightly slapping his cheek. ]
Come now, wake up.
[ Oh.
Shit. ]
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It, in fact, takes three minutes and forty two seconds, not that anyone is counting. In those three minutes, his chest rises and falls, color very slowly returns to his cheeks, and very carefully, his fingers begin to curl and uncurl, telegraphing any sort of metaphorical return from darkness that one might anticipate.
Still.
One doesn't anticipate waking up to well. This.]
?!
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A fairly panicked but rather healthy-looking Astarion, holding his wrist over Alucard's face, blood about to drip from a horizontal cut into his mouth. He notices Alucard's eyes open with surprise and relief, but doesn't immediately remove his arm. ]
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[Alucard groans lowly, placing forefinger and thumb to pinch at the bridge of his nose. It takes a moment more to ground him, although what really does it is the way that too-sharp iron hits his nose from Astarion's open wound.
Dryly, Alucard manages:]
Thank you, but I think I'm alright. We're really not having a good track rate with beds, are we?
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He's quick to pull his arm away, a flicker of embarrassment crossing his features very briefly as he pulls away. ]
Speak for yourself - [ he counters - although he knows what he's referring to. This is quickly followed by a deep breath in and a sigh as he continues looking Alucard over with a hint of guilt in his expression. ]
I - apologize. I don't... I usually have better control.
[ He does, at least, feel better - minus the addition of guilt. His own wrist is still bleeding slightly, and he fusses over that for a moment. ]
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[Alucard's laugh comes off as a bit of a wheeze, but his voice is less croaky than it was moments ago.]
Don't apologize. I figured it might happen. I'm actually sort of surprised that trying to pry you off worked. [But that isn't the point right now. Alucard doesn't move to sit up, but there. That's his voice entirely back to normal.]
Did my blood actually do what we needed it to?
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It did, yes. [ To this he sounds relieved, but after a moment he touches his middle. ] But it's never quite held at bay for long.
[ He does have excellent control. One thing he can bitterly thank his master for, though the methods he wouldn't wish on anyone else. While it may seem like he means the urge itself, it's really the pain that comes with the hunger that he's speaking about. The hook in his belly, the constant gnawing like rats in his middle. ]
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[And Alucard's own blood has done just the same. He exhales and then climbs off the bed, eyes glancing around the room to take in the whole of the destruction. He pauses for just a moment, then looks back to Astarion.]
I can help you tidy up, if you'd like. No one would notice if I went and grabbed a broom for a bit.
[It is a task, and that's what Alucard would normally do in these circumstances. Find something to do. Something to focus on, occupy his mind.]
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With a deep sigh, he nods. ]
I suppose I should. [ Tidy up. He won't try to dissuade Alucard from helping either, even though this is barely a two person job. Maybe he genuinely appreciates the company. ]
I ought to start finally considering... new accommodations. [ Not that having his own room all these months hasn't been a luxury compared to what he came from, but... maybe it's time. ]
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[There's some joke to make about when does a splinter count as a stake, but now is not the time or place. Instead, Alucard hangs onto the last word as his hand lingers on the door, clearly intent on actually getting that broom.]
In terms of just a new room, or more space to spread out?
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More space - [ and he waves his hand at the door ] - go, I promise not to escape out the window.
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I'm holding you to it.
[He exits, returning a few moments later with a broom, dustpan, and an extra trash can which is absolutely not going to hold that much debris. The can goes down beside the nearest pile of pieces, and Alucard leans a bit more on the broom.]
Well, I guess the question about space collides with the question of living with another person, or would you still like to fall into certain bad jokes about vampires being territorial cats that hiss a lot?
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I am not moving into the cactus next door to yours, if that's what you're insinuating.
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Alucard squats himself down, focused on some of the smaller pieces that have gotten under the bed. A good place to start.]
And you need a better place to display that work of art. I think there's a few places near my office that may be for rent.
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I do. [ He agrees with a deep sigh, taking a step back to admire the art. ] Although I can't say Libertas calls to me... [ he may have done a fair amount of pickpocketing there when he first arrived... ] ... most of my work is either here in Cadens, or Aquila. [ He ducks down to retrieve a law book, some of the pages fall out. ]
Perhaps somewhere in Cadens would be best. With a view of the graveyard.
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Libertas is best for visiting, I've found, and I'm fond of the place. [His eyes move over to the book, curious about the contents. Alucard's sight isn't so good as to be able to read from as far as he is, but he's curious and lets it be known with a soft
--Oh.
It's a genuine surprise, and in a good way.]
I can look around when I go there tonight and see if there's anything available. I've heard that the dead there sometimes howl in the middle of the night though. I trust that won't be a problem?
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Oh - have I not mentioned? [ Maybe he did in their shared hallucination, but details fade fast. Anyway, fun fact: ] I don't actually sleep. A holdover from my elven heritage, we simply trance for a few hours and revive perfectly rested.
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/end!