Belmont, moving my jaw is agony, the basic answer is no, and the advanced answer is I cannot promise my self control.
[They're spat out words. Over the years, Alucard had always taken care to not let either of them see the part of him that required blood and how it looked when he took that nutrition. He always returned with a deer or a boar, and that animal would have a mangled throat. The work of a wolf, and of no man or vampire. They all knew he required blood, but there was a difference between knowing it intellectually and seeing the act performed.
Human blood was...minimal. And it was uncertain at the start of his life how much blood he would need and how much it must be human. A perilous few weeks according to his mother's journals, for while Alucard refused to read her pregnancy notebook, the initial notes after his birth were something else. There was so much love written onto every page, and it was a comfort in navigating the grief, just as it was a reminder that neither one of his parents knew how he would grow.
And yet.
He isn't healing. Not like he should, and time is their enemy right now. More than ever. Dracula and the night hoard, that was one thing, his father did not hunt them as dogs. Carmilla was her own breed of evil, and she was persistent in her way. Blood would speed things along. And if there is nothing else Alucard is, it is willing to accept the horrifying.]
A cup. A pint of it, nothing else, and you give no more for a month. Minimum. We are all well, or we all die.
no subject
[They're spat out words. Over the years, Alucard had always taken care to not let either of them see the part of him that required blood and how it looked when he took that nutrition. He always returned with a deer or a boar, and that animal would have a mangled throat. The work of a wolf, and of no man or vampire. They all knew he required blood, but there was a difference between knowing it intellectually and seeing the act performed.
Human blood was...minimal. And it was uncertain at the start of his life how much blood he would need and how much it must be human. A perilous few weeks according to his mother's journals, for while Alucard refused to read her pregnancy notebook, the initial notes after his birth were something else. There was so much love written onto every page, and it was a comfort in navigating the grief, just as it was a reminder that neither one of his parents knew how he would grow.
And yet.
He isn't healing. Not like he should, and time is their enemy right now. More than ever. Dracula and the night hoard, that was one thing, his father did not hunt them as dogs. Carmilla was her own breed of evil, and she was persistent in her way. Blood would speed things along. And if there is nothing else Alucard is, it is willing to accept the horrifying.]
A cup. A pint of it, nothing else, and you give no more for a month. Minimum. We are all well, or we all die.