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bloody tears
After committing patricide, Alucard had reluctantly spent his years living, being awake. Once upon a time, he had thought to sleep for eternity, but Trevor and Sypha had convinced him otherwise; they were wonderful comrades, a friendship he had not counted on lasting -- but for years, it did. They bore children, and the Belmont line would continue. Though he felt immense guilt for helping kill his father, Alucard loved his friends and their wonderful children.
Which in turn, his immortal blood would curse him, forcing him to watch his friends age. The laugh lines suited them both, Trevor still dashing and smug despite his age and Sypha fiery and brilliant. His heart had sunk, staying with them, clutching their hands as their life would fade day to day.
“You fucking bastard,” Trevor had muttered, grinning tiredly. “Still as beautiful as the day you beat my ass in that dingy keep of yours.”
His heart broke as their time eventually came, feeling eerily alone as they passed away together in their sleep. Though Alucard was close to their children and grandchildren, it was not like the bond he had with them. His mother was gone, murdered by other humans. His father, killed by his own hands. Now the closest, only friends he had, taken by time itself, leaving him with so little.
And so, he had retreated to the castle. Once his father's, now his own, filled with years of knowledge and obtaining years more. The outside world concerned him little, and he focused instead on protecting the libraries of Belmont and Tepes alike. Generations would come to pass, empires rising and falling. Pointless wars that would sometimes tempt him to think that perhaps his father was right, and acts of love that would make him remember his mother's remarkable heart instead.
Still, he spent it all withdrawn from the world, tired and finding solitude.
What he does not anticipate is how suddenly a complete stranger comes bursting through one of the mirrors, smelling of magic, the stars, and quintessence. Alucard had been in the middle of putting a book back onto its shelf, and he stands there, baffled by the sudden intrusion.
"Well." Alucard pauses. "That is quite the entrance."
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No further elaboration is given on the subject matter at the moment. For now, he's remaining entirely focused on the matter at hand. It's more important than anything else in his heart. He hasn't had a true calling in awhile, and he supposes he'd always known the threat of Zarkon was on the horizon, but--
In any case.
"Intent," he says, his lips twitching as he remembers centuries ago what Sypha had said about magic. "Moving the castle is with my intent. However, I need to know where to go first, of course. And have the power for such a large move."
There's a pause as he looks over to Shiro, observing his reaction, subtle as it is. Alucard pauses, then bows his head faintly.
"I would not ask if I did not need yours specifically," he says distantly. "And I have not fed in quite sometime. So I give you two options, Paladin: my fangs, or by syringe."
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"It sounds a lot like what someone I know would do with her ship," he says, in answer. Allura did it that way, he was fairly sure. Quintessence probably. Or just the sheer force of her will. Either way, he wouldn't be surprised if it worked the same here.
Even if this man is wildly different from Allura.
His jaw works. "I believe you -- it's my only chance." He has to believe him. As much as it makes his skin crawl at the suggestion, at the options. He has to get back to the others. "I--"
It's probably the previous fight that's made his brain process everything so slowly. Put the clues together. Slowly, he lifts his gaze, staring at Alucard. Fed, he'd said. Fangs, he'd said.
"What... do you mean by that? Fed. Fangs?"
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There is a pause as he smooths his palm over the mirror, then turns to look at Shiro. A dry laugh escapes him, and he bows his head. "I suppose my kind are but a legend by now to humanity, so well hidden are we. So few. I am a vampire. Well, half by my father's side, in any case."
He opens his mouth, tapping a fingertip to a fang.
"I mean you no harm, Paladin, despite whatever reservations you may have. I am your ally, through and through."
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"How much do you know about us? About this war?"
And, by extension, Voltron and the Castle. Alfor and Allura.
More silence. Weighing options in his head -- he'd already realized there weren't any, except trusting Alucard. And yet the man is standing there, claiming to drink blood, sporting actual sharpened canines. Part of him, the part he so often shuts down when it wants to make laser sounds or pull out stupid jokes, wonders if Alucard also participates in saying "bleh". That part doesn't get a say here, either.
"And... you're telling me, you either use a needle, or your mouth." Fine, okay. He'll buy vampire for now. He's seen weirder things already. One hand scrubs down his jawline. With how unpredictable certain aspects of his head can be, there's... probably one good route to take here.
"I've had worse than a little blood loss, either way. Probably worse bite wounds too." His shoulders straighten. "Where do you want to do it?"
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What few memories he has of King Alfor are good ones. An incredible man of science, a powerful alchemist. Both he and his father bonded over science. Those were certainly much better days.
"Wherever you would be most comfortable, Paladin. I will not take much, but the power from the Black Paladin will help me immensely. Afterward, I will do everything I can to bring you to Voltron."
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And it's true. He's seen the AI, the copy made of Allura's father, for a little while before it went off the rails. But that's not the man himself. Shiro's never even met him, and still has the sense of the universe being a duller place without him.
A nod, and he begins undoing the clasps holding the armor over his left hand. It'd be the easiest. He realizes he's putting a lot of faith in someone he's just met. But Alucard's done nothing but assist him so far.
"All right --" He gets his wrist free, tucking the bits of armor under his other arm. "Then this should work."