[There's a very dark laugh as Alucard takes a cloth, wraps it around his own hands, and picks up the pot lid. Good. Nothing too ruined, he can tell by the smell. A decent summer vegetable soup, meant to be served cool to chase away the heat of the day.]

Plus the three of us, which makes fourteen. Anything left can go with them for their journey ahead.

[The soup's as done as it needs to be, and so Alucard lets it cool with the lid off in full. Nothing else is over boiling or doing anything that it ought not to do, which is good as far as cooking is concerned, but the rest is...ugh. Shit.

He remains at the stove for a moment or two more, the silence settling in all the awkward, uncomfortable ways. Alucard knows the other two are worried. And that makes him worry about them more. A stupid feedback loop. One that isn't about to break but he can...he can gently prod at.]

I...appreciate all of the space.