[ He hadn't seen it before. Not really. He'd looked long enough to see that Alucard was alive (it hadn't taken much to check. he had been screaming.) and moved on. Because that was what he did. That was what Belmonts do. You can't look at the horror for long because it consumes you.
Such a harmless little thing, the pomander. One of the few things in the Belmont Hold created to genuinely foster peace. A way for those who could not live without harming others to do so. A tiny fragment of hope for a peaceful resolution to their long battle. It should have been as much a symbol of the potential for true peace and progress as Alucard himself was. It was iron, for vampires. Difficult to destroy with magic, but not harmful. It should never have been hung from a silver choker.
There's hissing at first, as it's attached. Of flesh. Of breath. And then, then Alucard takes a great breath after that first cry of pain and his face changes. Softens. The pain of it is still visible all over his face, but the reaction is muted. Acceptance. He's no longer backing away from the silver needles. There's no anger, no defiance, nothing. Nothing but pain and acceptance of the pain.
He shouldn't be seeing this. More than not wanting to, he shouldn't. Not without Alucard's leave.
Trevor snatches the mirror out of Alucard's hands. For a moment, he's considering tossing it across the room. He doesn't. He puts it down on the cot, face down, covering it with a blanket to mute the noises. ]
no subject
Such a harmless little thing, the pomander. One of the few things in the Belmont Hold created to genuinely foster peace. A way for those who could not live without harming others to do so. A tiny fragment of hope for a peaceful resolution to their long battle. It should have been as much a symbol of the potential for true peace and progress as Alucard himself was. It was iron, for vampires. Difficult to destroy with magic, but not harmful. It should never have been hung from a silver choker.
There's hissing at first, as it's attached. Of flesh. Of breath. And then, then Alucard takes a great breath after that first cry of pain and his face changes. Softens. The pain of it is still visible all over his face, but the reaction is muted. Acceptance. He's no longer backing away from the silver needles. There's no anger, no defiance, nothing. Nothing but pain and acceptance of the pain.
He shouldn't be seeing this. More than not wanting to, he shouldn't. Not without Alucard's leave.
Trevor snatches the mirror out of Alucard's hands. For a moment, he's considering tossing it across the room. He doesn't. He puts it down on the cot, face down, covering it with a blanket to mute the noises. ]
Mirror's not working.
[ Trevor "stating the fucking obvious" Belmont. ]