(for cryptsleeper)

[miraclewhip]

[ He remembers- maybe about half of what happened last night. A little more, perhaps. He remembers the comments that initiated the fight. Vaguely remembers being dragged back to the inn. Remembers throwing cold water on his face to wake himself up to do the terrible fucking job of stitching himself back up that he found himself with this morning (if there was ever a chance to keep that fucking cut from scarring, well, he's gone and botched it).

And he remembers telling the fucking vampire things that he probably should not have told the fucking vampire. He doesn't remember the specifics but he knows that he said too much. More than he's told anyone in a decade maybe. All for the sake of a petty victory that he doesn't even remember if he achieved.

He's uncharacteristically quiet today, even for being as hungover as he is. He forces the almost-solid porridge down his throat when it's pushed in front of him. He drinks half the water that he was using to wash himself last night and pours the other half over his head to wake himself up after maybe an hour of sleep. He only interrupts Sypha's long, long 'discussion' when she stares at him for an indication that he's still awake. It's after that that he's dismissed to the back of the wagon, either because Sypha can't stand his presence right now or because she doesn't trust him not to fall off and end up tangled under its wheels.

(Can't blame her, being tangled up under the wheels of a wagon sounds better than being in his own head right now, even without the throbbing pain.)

He doesn't sleep, mostly because he's been told not to and he is, even more uncharacteristically, on his best behavior right now. The day is mostly uneventful until sometime in the afternoon, when a particularly foolish highwayman sees a wagon driven by a single speaker woman and tries to take advantage of the situation. He's driven off within moments, of course, harmlessly to both them and himself, and the worst that happens is that the horses are startled by Sypha's display and the wagon lurches to one side, knocking Trevor onto his side against the wooden floor. It's only after everything has been confirmed okay, once the horses are calm and they're moving again, that he places a hand to his lower chest. ]

Fuck.

[ It's warm. And damp. He's gone and opened his shitty stitches, hasn't he? ]

Comments

[cryptsleeper]

There's a few stationed at different points when the alps enter the Italian peninsula. I don't know if any of those are inclined to expand their territory too far north. Leaves them vulnerable to everything that exists below.

[It's a basic fact that Italy? Cleared of vampires, for the most part. The Church is too strong there, and even getting around is a chore. There are a few older hold outs in the Dolomites, some claiming to be of Roman times, but the beliefs of their countrymen have long since pinned them into their territories. Expansion has not happened for centuries.

Alucard's eyes go back over to the list. The next name is rather recent, turned 1423.]

I do wish your sister would stick with one language though.

[miraclewhip]

At least they're mostly easy ones, so far.

[ 'Easy' here meaning 'ones that trevor knows how to read'. French, mostly. It's what they spoke in the house, it's what most of the texts in the hold are written in. The current part of the list is Church Slavic. Which vampires can, apparently, look at just fine despite Trevor's concerns.

This one is alive, and Trevor squints at the mirror in concentration. ]

I know this one. From the Hold.

[cryptsleeper]

Oh, I've seen the attempts at Greek. It took me five minutes to read, and I'm still not sure I translated it correctly.

[Alucard peers sideways to try and look at the actual name. It was harder to read at an angle, but that was because Slavic, not handwriting. Most of it is just a name though.

There's a soft hiss when the Hold is mentioned. All the better to put the fear of Belmont into this one.]

Did they try to do anything asinine at the time?

[miraclewhip]

One of the first out after the group that attacked, I think. If they had any ideas, they thought better of it.

[ He tilts the notebook to one side to allow Alucard a better look. ]

We're lucky. This is what she was expecting other people to need to read. I think we'd need Sypha to figure out anything she wanted to keep secret.

[cryptsleeper]

Thank whatever power was responsible for that.

[Trevor's God is still not...not something Alucard likes. But the sacramental wine still saved his life, so he will occassional conceed to something higher and useful.]

Mm, her Slavic's better. [His attention returns to the mirror.] Should be up north by now, if the residence is correct. Do you want to try focusing, since you know the face?

[miraclewhip]

Focusing? You want me to try to find him?

[ He sounds so incredibly unsure about that. ]

This is vampire shit. Not sure I'm, you know. Allowed.

[cryptsleeper]

It's also learning a useful tool shit.

[Alucard pauses. Because he's explaining himself badly, and there's a few thoughts going through his head that he hasn't quite nailed down yet.]

What all of this is, the...clean up. Should something happen, all three of us need to have one or two basic skills to keep these lists updated and all involved tame. So that means you need to be able to use the mirror.

[miraclewhip]

Something isn't going to happen. I won't let it.

[ Not that he can actually stop anything from happening, but still. ]

You know I'm hopeless with this, Alucard. I don't. Do. Magic.

[cryptsleeper]

[There's that faint and fond smile at I won't let it. They give Alucard such nonsense about being too protective or possessive, but they're just as bad.]

Oddly enough, you do. Just not in any way you would've assumed it to be magic.

[miraclewhip]

The whip's not magic. It's numbers. You control it by knowing the weight and length you're working with, so you can figure out how much and how quickly you need to move it.

[ Not actually what Alucard was getting at, but okay. ]

[cryptsleeper]

The wine, Trevor.

[Alucard shakes his head. This boy and his whips, he swears.]

I'm not going to delve into sacraments, but bear with me the point here. You transformed something with blood and spit. That is, by any understanding, a basic thing to do in magic. I know you're familiar enough with principles, if only because you've been around Sypha and myself four years now.

[They defeated his father at the end of winter. As the spring thaw began. So it has been four years.]

[miraclewhip]

I spat in a bottle. That's not magic, that's watering down the alcohol.

[ He huffs. That's- still a touchy subject. And being accused of using magic is also a touchy subject. ]

Fine, tell me what to do. Let me prove you wrong before I start to regret spitting in anything.

[cryptsleeper]

[Trevor, if any man is going to be careful about saying someone used magic who do you think it is you absolute turnip?

Alucard stands up from his chair, which has been parked in front of the mirror for the better half of the afternoon. He gestures Trevor to come and sit in it instead.]

Both hands on either side of the mirror. Close your eyes, think about the face of the vampire.

[miraclewhip]

[ He sits down, following the instructions with a mixture of grumpiness and nervousness. He hates magic. He does not want to do magic. But this is the fastest way out of this stupid fucking conversation that doesn't involve snapping at Alucard and making the next few hours awkward. ]

Hold a mirror, think about an ugly bastard. I can do that.

[cryptsleeper]

Astute as you've ever been.

[It's not a matter of this being routine. Alucard knows better than to force this on a regular basis. But it's still useful to know if it can be done in an absolute emergency.

Alucard's eyes remain on the mirror. Nothing.]

[miraclewhip]

[ Nothing, the first time he opens his eyes. He tries again. Really tries.

It's too fucking bright. There's a shape, vaguely human, but it's blurred. More importantly, it's too bright to see. Too much snow, with even pale moonlight reflecting off it far, far too much. ]

I broke the fucking mirror, happy?

[cryptsleeper]

...Huh.

[Alucard folds his arms across his chest, and then walks over to examine the mirror better. Damnedest thing. He's never seen it before, and he runs his finger over the surface to make sure all is well.

He refocuses the mirror. The shape is exactly where it was in Trevor's sight, and he looks over at Trevor.]

Actually, you did fine.

[miraclewhip]

[ His scarred eye is closed when he looks at the mirror again, because fuck using his bad eye to look at the way the world looks through his bad eye is. Not pleasant at all. ]

That was you. I just made it look fucking weird.

[cryptsleeper]

You did. And I'm never going to ask you to do that again, I promise.

[He sees that scarred eye closed. Alucard understands what he just saw, and now he feels like an ass for trying to force this issue.]

[miraclewhip]

Fuck off.

[ He knows what an Alucard descending into guilt sounds like. And he hates that more than he hates this magic shit. ]

You didn't know it was going to happen, I didn't know it was going to work. I'll just keep that eye closed next time.

[cryptsleeper]

[This is absolutely entering the guilt pit. And they're both intent on not doing that, so let that be the raft they cling to.]

All right.

[Enid's list. It's over on Trevor's chair, and it's quick to check the name off.]

May I ask something about past Belmont plans with regards to my family?

[miraclewhip]

If it means I don't have to mess with this fucking thing anymore, ask anything.

[ Get out of that fucking guilt pit you ridiculous floating man. ]

[cryptsleeper]

How organized would dealing with the fall out have been? Realistically, I mean, not in terms of just elaborate planning.

[Trevor's still in his chair, so Alucard can only stand. He dismisses the mirror in full, and it only reflects the room back at them.]

[miraclewhip]

Realistically-

[ He sighs. He knows the plans, but guessing how it would have gone realistically- ]

-realistically, it was always going to be kind of shit. We had a few vampiric allies- ones who had been turned unwillingly, usually, we turned away those who wanted your father gone to further their own station. [ They would have likely been no kinder, and that they could not defeat Dracula themselves meant they would also be less useful for maintaining order. ] None strong enough to take his place. But they would have helped us to choose the best candidate to support.

There were a few candidates. Ones who were more vain than paranoid, so they would keep a court that our allies could be installed in. Ones who thought humans were below being turned and wouldn't permit it in Wallachia. If all else failed, though- ugh.

[ He stops there, because this is going to get really upsetting, really fast. ]

[cryptsleeper]

[Alucard's quiet. That means he's listening. Really listening. The mirror shifts, showing a more pleasant scene. A quiet forest somewhere else in the world, all stillness and light and gentle breeze that makes the room feel less dark. This room's lack of windows always makes it harder.

He takes Trevor's chair since Trevor is in his. (Ass goes onto Enid's notes for a hot second, and then there's a muttered apology to the dead.]

Politics is what it would have become, in the end. Not hunting.

[Which is very strange indeed. House Belmont, vampiric king makers. Hell of a thought to wrap one's head around.]

And you'd have to retain that control through generations. Hunting less. Controlling more.