Trevor 'The Bear Situation' Belmont (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
miraclewhip) wrote2018-11-23 08:39 pm
miraclewhip) wrote2018-11-23 08:39 pm
Entry tags:
(for cryptsleeper)
[ 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? ]
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? ]
no subject
About right. The plan was drowning in a ditch somewhere. This shit- this shit at least might mean something. Tie up loose ends. Maybe- maybe undo the whole excommunication thing.
[ He doesn't give a shit where he goes, but his family deserve to be able to move on and rest in peace. And as long as all of them are excommunicated, they can't. ]
No conclusions about how you'd kill me yet? Or would you just leave me unattended to do it myself?
no subject
[He had survival instincts drilled into him as a child is what Alucard's saying. Something just isn't allowing for death yet.]
And in spite of all of my own self-preservation instincts, Belmont, I have no particular desire to actually make that happen. So I haven't bothered to think about it.
no subject
[ Of all the things to get defensive about, that's the one he picks. Alucard's right. He's really, really bad at dying. ]
Well shit. Now I look like a dick, don't I?
no subject
[The more Alucard considers the comparison, the more accurate it feels. Not just because of Trevor's personality, but because of what circumstances have resulted in. It's like dealing with a feral.]
You've already done a fine job of doing that, this is barely a drop in the bucket.
no subject
[ And if he does remember it, he may as well pretend that he doesn't. ]
no subject
[Thanks for letting him know you remember, Trevor.]
It's a personality trait of yours, no wonder you don't remember specifics. It's a constant onslaught of dickery.
no subject
Wouldn't want to lie.
[ Trevor Belmont, honest person who never, ever lies. ]
no subject
[There's a very polite point of not remotely asking what's remembered of last night. Alucard's happy living ignorant of that, and he's also nearly flat on the floor of the wagon now. He groans when he realizes that fact and how distinctly uncomfortable the position is.]
If I asked Sypha to pull over so we can both stand up, how likely is the chance of you popping any of your stitches?
no subject
[ And because he did a shitty job with them last night, but they're both not talking about last night. For his part, Trevor is about as comfortable as he ever is. Lifetime spent sleeping in trees or in gutters or on tavern floors and all. ]
no subject
[At least he didn't say stay right there. That would be cause for mockery, and it would be completely within Trevor's right. It takes a few minutes of back and forth with Sypha to agree to pull the carriage over, and there's one comment about the fact there's been actual laughter coming from the back of the wagon every so often. She's still angry, but the Best Behavior has helped alleviate it somewhat.
Which means that they pull over soon enough, and Alucard's not sure how much help getting up Trevor's going to need. So he doesn't move over Trevor to leap out first and stretch his legs. He waits.]
no subject
[ Because usually he doesn't give that much of a shit about tearing stitches open or putting weight on fractured bones. But now he has to. Because even if he can convince himself that he doesn't give a shit about people actually caring, he needs to be whole to face Dracula. The better he is when the time comes, the better the chances of them keeping that unspoken promise.
He pushes his elbow, the one on his good side, against the stacked bags of horse feed behind him to try to lever himself up, and it about works. ]
no subject
[Yeah no, Alucard mom would be proud of that, even if he's sitting there with chin in hand, genuinely considering the possibility. He doesn't move as Trevor experiences adventures in not fucking up stitches.]
Do you want a hand the rest of the way out of this thing?
no subject
[ It's. Harsh, for what is meant to be a reassurance. He's not used to making reassurances. At the offer of help - and he probably does need help, at least for a little while longer until he's got a good grasp of how much he can move without risking the stitches coming undone again - he just sighs. ]
If you must. Do you always fuss this much, or am I just particularly hopeless?
no subject
[Maybe it really is just the first one, which is probably good fodder for teasing if they're not dead at the end of this. Either way, Alucard takes a moment to figure out the best way to maneuver Trevor before he helps the man get appropriately upright, and then out of the back of the wagon entirely.
The amount of cooperation is also given the side-eye from Sypha, which is perhaps understandable. It gives off the aura of the two being up to something else and something stupider than last night, if that was at all possible.]
no subject
[ Ah, walking. He'd forgotten that doing that hurts. Less than it did this morning, thankfully, between the stitches being better done this time and the rest doing at least some good. Getting out of the wagon is the difficult part - it would have been impossible without Alucard's help. As it is, it's ungraceful and involves a lot of leaning on Alucard. But he manages. Eventually.
On solid ground, and solid ground where he has enough room to actually stand up rather than crouching below the wagon's roof, it's easier. He stretches as best he can, shaking the numbness out of his legs. ]
no subject
[The shitty vampire comment gets an eyeroll, and once Trevor is down and out of the wagon, Alucard stops just long enough to grab the man's shirt and...dump it very nicely on his head, because he deserves it for the last comment.
It's a good time to do a few practical pieces of housekeeping, like getting the horses some snacks, as well as water. Moving the bags of feed is Alucard's job, but Sypha's in command of the horses after that. There's less anger coming off of her now, and when evening comes, it will probably be gone entirely.
What Alucard does after that is just walk around the wagon, and then stand around observing where it is they've stopped. The road is empty (unsurprising), and the trees are all bare. But it doesn't look as if this part of Wallachia has seen much of the night hoards, and that's a novelty after going past so many scarred parts of the landscape.]
no subject
[ He says with the air of a man who definitely has tried to do that.
They're closer than he thought. They must be, for the road to be so clear of the telltale signs of destruction. Unless Dracula orders them there specifically, the horde won't move through Belmont lands. Not even years later. ]
Almost home, huh. Maybe a day's ride away, now.
no subject
[His voice is absolutely dripping with excitement over the fact. Dripping.
Alucard stands closer to the back of the wagon as Trevor speaks, carefully rearranging the feed bags to account for the one that's now being used. A few other things shift as well, but there's a point made not to touch Trevor's bag. Damn wine.]
What's the minimum estimate then? Half a day?
no subject
Not before nightfall. But unless you think your father's ordered anything after us in particular, it ought to be safe to travel through the night. Doubt the horde will come into Belmont lands without being ordered to. Worst we'll run into is more highwaymen.
[ He shifts his weight from one foot to the other gingerly, moving his legs as much as he can without pulling anything he shouldn't pull. ]
Morning, at the earliest. Probably a few hours before dawn.
no subject
As much as I could take the reins for the night, the horses will need their rest. [Night driving with the other two asleep in the back is not a problem at all. And it is a curious thing to note that with all of Wallachia thrown into hell, this is the one part that has been avoided.
Even though the Belmont family (save one) has been long gone, the estate burned, the legacy demised. It isn't a thought to voice though, especially not right now.]
Is there a good point up ahead to camp for the night?
[If the forest here is undisturbed, there may also be wild game to take advantage of, rather than rely on rations. Alucard folds his arms across his chest in consideration, looking away politely as Trevor continues to figure out how much stress he can put on the wound.]
no subject
There ought to be a river and a bridge, maybe an hour or so further up. Decent hunting, by the water. The horses will be able to drink, and if anything is going to attack then the river will force them to approach from only one side.
wraps this on up!
[Whatever there is in the forest, it is no exaggeration to say that Alucard will be able to catch it with very little energy spent. All that's left is to let Sypha in on the discussion, which she agrees to mostly because the horses really are starting to tire out.
So there's five minutes left to enjoy the novelty of standing again before it's time to load into the back of the wagon and continue the last hour of the day's journey. As they move, Alucard settles into a far more comfortable silence than the one before. Last night's gone. This one's looking much better.]