reposing | reincarnation vampire lord

reincarnation vampire lord | miraclewhip

Ultimately, what ends up being the most logical choice is the one he hates the most, but there have been many people vying for the power vacuum that Dracula had left. The greedy, the pompous, self-righteous -- too many have tried to claim the empty throne in his father's castle, and all have fallen. But the courts will never be happy to leave it vacant, and he's tired of the fighting.

So he takes it himself, crushing anyone that tries to overthrow him. Otherwise, he prefers to be merciful and benevolent, even if he loathes the politics and having to outright police the rest of the creatures of the night.

It isn't the most ideal. He sees Trevor and Sypha less than he'd prefer, wanting instead to be with them, watch their children grow, to love them. And he does, but just not as much as he'd like.

"They will die one day, my lord," one of the other vampires warn. "Would you fall into the same cycle as your father before you?"

It is a thought. Alucard knows what the intention is: to turn them into vampires like him. But he could never throw them into his world, a world of night and never having daylight. To survive as does. To truly force a Belmont into what they've hunted after all this time? Unacceptable. So he lets them live as they are, human and wonderful, until their last dying day.

And it is on that day that Alucard locks himself away from the rest of the world, deep in the earth with the crypt of his mother and father. To sleep, now that there is nothing else waiting for him alive.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

And this is why, she thinks, it is actually not best if Katalin explains anything, but that's a digression she doesn't dwell on, mostly because she's paying attention to the nuances here — not just the things that are said, but the things that are being said without using words to say them.

The stranger's smile doesn't seem feigned or forced. He claims to be relieved, and he sounds like it, which doesn't make a particular lot of sense in itself, but it's something to develop more later. Katalin is Katalin, which carries something to that in and of itself; if he's acting the way that he usually does, then that means he's not acting as though this is anything outside of the ordinary.

Whatever this is, he doesn't seem to think it's unsafe. She knows that, because if he did, he wouldn't be letting her stay standing between himself and the stranger. He'd already have her knife in his hand and a challenge in his eyes, both to keep her from getting into trouble for the aggression, and to make sure that there was aggression at all to begin with.

So, then. Mysteries. Ones that leave her still guarded, but at least a little less overtly defensive.

"That seems like a lot of trouble to go to, just to find me," she remarks, eyeing the stranger and discovering with some surprise that she finds the sight of his smile...warming. "What do you want with us?"

That was a slip, using us instead of me. But subtle as it is, it neatly covers all of her areas of concern — the Speakers, the ambiguous countryside affected by such a move. And also herself and Katalin as a unit — because of course that's how she instinctively thinks of them.

Katalin's body language is terribly endearing. If nothing else, he's glad to reunite him with someone that he loves so much. His eyes return to looking at Sophie, watching her, unable to blame her for being so ready to defend her friend and her people.

"Nothing," he answers truthfully. "I am Adrian Fahrenheit Ţepeş, son of Vlad Dracula Ţepeş. I do not know how the stories might go in your tribe now, as it has been a few centuries, but I do not come to harm any. Your people, your friends, and yourself are all safe from me."

Adrian looks at her, looks at them. How different and how similar they are to the people he knew. Softly, he speaks, "I was asleep for sometime. I'm afraid that you two have a strong resemblance to people I loved, and it was in that a vampire who foolishly called himself a lord wanted to use it against me. Katalin was held captive as a result, unfortunately, and they were attempting to track you. With failure, of course, but the intention was there. Rest assured, he is no longer a threat, but ashes next to an empty throne.

"As a result, I was concerned. As was Katalin, of course. I've no regrets to bring him to you." Adrian smiles wryly. "He very clearly thinks quite highly of you."

He looks at Adrian, mouth slightly agape, and then back at Sophie. That was meant to be a secret, gosh. There were at least two things there that were meant to be a secret.

“You didn’t have to tell her that I fucked up again.” He grumbles, pouting for only a moment before it’s gone and he’s back to bright and warm. “I’m okay. Just got stuck for a little while, this time. The vampire helped. And- I don’t really understand it past that.”

(Again. And this time. It’s not that he’s not good at what he does, more that he never learned to pick his battles and just picks all of them at once. This isn’t the first time he’s got out of his depth, just the worst.)

He watches Adrian’s expression carefully, trying to divine what he thinks when he sees Sophie. If she’s the answer to everything for Adrian that she is to him. He’s smiling, at least, and that has to mean something good. In an attempt to be at least somewhat helpful, he adds- “There’s a mirror here. One of the ones you used to tell me about.” He turns to Adrian. “Could you show her?”

"Half-vampire," she supplies automatically, mostly directed at Katalin. She knows the story, of course; it's one of the most important ones the Speakers have ever kept, the ones granted a designation of sanctity levels above even the usual importance of the tales they preserve. There are some stories that merit such a thing — the understanding that should no other story survive, this one must be kept, and its care must always be entrusted to the best of the best, because every least detail is precious beyond compare.

"You are the one they called the Sleeping Soldier," she continues, as she weaves her own understanding through the things they've each said, linking it together into a greater whole. "And — you are saying we look like the others. The hunter Trevor Belmont, and the scholar Sypha Belnades. I know the story. We will never forget."

(She wonders if the half-vampire — if Adrian — really comprehends the depth and significance of those four words. We will never forget isn't a promise; it's perhaps the highest accolade that a community of Speakers can ever offer.)

"As for you," she adds, rounding momentarily on Katalin, "Is that why you look so terrible? And why I have not heard from you in so long — you were taken by vampires?!"

An apologetic glance is given to Katalin, but Adrian doesn't quite lose his smile. He wasn't going to lie for you!

"Yes," Adrian responds to Sophie softly. "I suppose more to the point, the vampire lord that took Katalin away was under the impression that you both could be them reborn. However, Trevisan was also a fool who thought he could gain the upper hand with me. Either way, it was important to ensure no one else was idiotic enough to come out here after you."

And alas, poor Katalin, being so reprimanded. "Don't be upset with him. It's my fault, if anything."

Wow rude, he might need to rethink his choices of stupid crush.

Distracting Sophie with the knowledge that there’s a viewing mirror here, like the one she admired so much in the Belmont Hold (they snuck away to look at it, one winter, and she focused it on far away places where it was summer in december and on birds with brightly coloured feathers) hasn’t worked, and so he instead sighs in defeat.

“It was only for a little while!” He insists, and he’s not quite sure who he’s angry at for embarassing him in from of who. “I just got a little careless. It won’t happen again, and you don’t need to cauterise anything this time. It’s fine.”

(He said that last time, too, except for the cauterising part.)

"I don't believe you," Sophie retorts, and whether that's an actual response or just a verbalization of exasperation is anyone's guess. Alas poor Katalin, the distraction was a valiant try, and in nearly any other circumstance it almost certainly would've worked. Probably it still will, once there's a little more equilibrium and a little less worry to the moment.

But she's thoughtful a minute, as she regards Adrian, because there's one thing he hasn't actually said in the midst of all of this that seems pertinent to ask, and it turns out she's just impulsive enough to do it.

"But what do you think, about it?" she ventures at last. "You said we look like them. And that the vampire lord who took Treffy — took Katalin —"

(Oops. His proper name always feels so strange on her tongue, from how rarely she bothers to use it.)

"— thought that we are them. So. Do you think that, too?"

Cauterize anything this time what.

Before he can actually tackle that, Sophie proceeds with the question he'd been dodging for himself. Adrian glances down before he meets her gaze again.

And he can't help but the twitch of amusement from his lips, hearing it. Treffy.

"There are similarities," Adrian says softly. "Glimpses that I have seen when Katalin, things I know Trevor would have said. Your voices, your faces -- it is almost identical. But there are differences as well. Not that they bother me."

He frowns to himself. "And I would not act as if there was the expectation that either of you owe me anything, that you owe me to be them. You have your own lives. Your own bonds. You should live them."

It's a bit roundabout of an answer. As he does, when he's not really wanting to be too forthcoming. But it's not a lie, either.

Why. Why is she using that nickname. Why is everyone here conspiring to humiliating him in front of each other? How is any of this fair? He’s regretting a lot of his choices right now.

“I don’t know what the fuck’s going on.” He provides, oh so helpfully. “Something, something, excommunication. Something, something, unbaptised. Something, something, second chances.”

But he does owe Adrian, doesn’t he? He can’t leave. He made a promise. Best not to tell Sophie about that until he’s out of the first round of trouble. She always hates it when he makes promises to random monsters. Something about words having power. Something about being careful. As if he’d ever make a promise he didn’t intend to keep.

“That’s assuming he was telling the truth, of course. He also told me that he wanted me to rescue his daughter from the castle. I’m not even sure he had a daughter.”

"You would probably know more if you didn't get hit in the head so often," says Sophie, who is apparently utterly unable to resist a fairly steady stream of color commentary on Katalin's contributions. It comes of having grown up with him; there's a rhythm to the banter that's practically instinctive by now.

(They are probably making a great impression on the half-vampire soldier of legend, Adrian Fahrenheit Ţepeş. Utterly fantastic, the both of them. Though he seems to have taken care of Katalin before they'd moved the castle here, so perhaps he's at least a little more used to Katalin's...everything, by now.)

"...So that is it. You're just...bringing him back. And you would let me take him, and leave, and that would be that?"

"Who can say? Why else would Trevisan have gone through such trouble, if he was so certain? I can't claim that he was right, just that he was an idiot who thought he could use you against me. Whatever God's rules are have no bearing on me. He hardly spares any love for vampires, half or full."

The idea does... make his heart heavy. But he had given his word, to stay awake. Even if he never saw Katalin again, he would hold onto that agreement, at least until his human life was done.

"If that is what you both want, then I would not stop you," Adrian says softly.

“It was only once. And I was well enough the next day.”

He does bristle at the way that word leaves Adrian’s mouth, just a little. He only has so many ties to his first family, and that is one of them. Not half as much as he bristled at the accusation of being an excommunicant, in this life or any other.

(‘I still fucking care.’ Trevor had admitted once, drunk, in a tone that suggested that he considered still fucking caring a terrible thing, agonizing over the decision of whether to piss on the wall of the chuirch ‘Even after everything, it still fucking matters. Still fucking hurts’)

“I want to show Sophie the mirror. And the engine.” She’d always clasped her hands around empty air when she recited that part, as if there was something she were trying to grab. “Everything.”

It's good that Katalin changes the subject when he does (...again), because this time it takes. More importantly, the fact that it works as a distraction is what keeps Sophie from opening her mouth, when she's already looking fairly hard at Adrian, as though he's a puzzle she's trying to solve in realtime.

You're wrong. You do want something with us, is what she almost says. He's not willing to act on it, perhaps; he's keeping himself carefully restrained, unthreatening, even noble. But there was something about him, she could tell, that didn't like the thought of what she'd said about taking Treffy and going. Not out of malice or greed — perhaps just out of melancholy.

It's a long look. A searching look. It probably leaves little to no ambiguity about what's running through her head; her expression loses some of that guarded nature in favor of just working through the problem in front of her.

But she doesn't say it, because Katalin wants to see the mirror, and the engine, and everything. No — he wants her to see it. That means it really must be worth looking at.

And anyway, that will give her more time to watch their sleeping soldier, besides.

"Someone should tell the caravan that they're not in any danger," she reminds Katalin, even as she absently remembers she's still holding a knife and fits it back into its sheath on her belt. "...What mirror and engine?"

That is no different, her calculating gaze. For however poorly Trevor and Adrian were at communicating deeply emotional, Sypha was always so free with her emotions, understanding them better than they would understand themselves sometimes. Here it is similar, her thoughtful gaze. At least, until her curiosity seems to get the better of her.

Much to Adrian's relief.

"Inform your people they are safe, and welcome inside if they need," Adrian tells her. "I imagine Treffy would like to show you the castle's engine, as well as the mirror I possess. It can technically transport matter, but I prefer to use it purely for viewing, as needed."

He holds out his hand. "Go. I will be here when they are calm." Pointedly, he looks at Katalin, his voice gentle, "I won't be going anywhere."

“You had better not.” He grumbles, focussed more on that than he is on the use of that nickname (that! nickname!). “I’ll-“ -and he can’t come up with a threat that’s a match for how very offended he feels by the idea of Adrian returning to his slumber. “-you promised. No sleeping. Unless- unless it’s the normal sort.”

And he moves closer to Sophie, ruffling her fluffy hair with a rough hand and grinning.

“If he starts sulking and goes to sleep when we get back, you’re allowed to get mad, okay? He promised none of that shit.”

"If he tries to go back to sleep we will find his coffin and push it over so he falls out," Sophie says, or attempts to, except that the last bit gets somewhat truncated by an indignant yelp as Katalin starts messing up her hair, like he always does, like he knows she hates, and then she has to occupy herself with slapping at his hands to try to get him to stop, which probably altogether ruins any hope they might've had of actually coming off a a viable threat to anyone.

Just like old times, really.

It's probably for the best that they do go and calm the Speakers, though she's not altogether sure how well they would take the idea of a foray into this particular castle. Still —

"We have food and supplies in the camp that we can spare, if you need them," she offers to Adrian tentatively (they don't, not really, but they're Speakers. They can always spare, no matter the hardship it brings on themselves to do it). But then she glances at Katalin's neck, and can't quite hold herself back from adding, "...But if you require...something other than food. Then you must take it from me, and not him."

"I'm not going to sleep. I just said--" Adrian huffs slightly. And these two are like children, but really that's no surprise. They're young, so much younger than him. And they close, because of course they would be, but he'd never begrudge it. He could never dare to be so selfish.

"I need no supplies, but perhaps Katalin will. For me, I will be fine, nor will I drink from either of you." Adrian turns away.

"Animals are fine. I am no stranger to supplementing where I must."

For his part, Katalin seems delighted by Sophie's threat as well as by her indignant response to his messing with her hair. It's only when she mentions blood, demanding that she be the one taken from, that he bristles again. Bristles because that's wrong. No. And also because he was stupid and maybe forgot that even pleasant vampires still need to do that sort of thing. It's only when Adrian confirms that she won't be hurt that he relaxes.

"I- oughtn't need anything, I don't think. Lost my weapons, so I'll be spared that lecture for once. But it's not as if you can replace those." And there might be a little bit of a roll of his eyes at that, because protect yourselves, for fuck's sake. "But we ought to go explain things before you're missed too much."

"Then it should be quick, if we need not do much but explain ourselves." Which, speaking of explaining oneself, Katalin is absolutely going to have to do on the way from the castle's doors to the heart of the camp, because there's quite a bit that understandably can't be detailed right in front of the person it's being detailed about, but that doesn't mean she doesn't want to know it anyway.

Almost instinctively, she gravitates a little closer to Katalin's side, as though she's already forgotten that just seconds before she was mad at him for going after her hair, and lightly rests the tips of her fingers on his arm, near his elbow. "And then we will be back? To see the mirror, and the engines."

Quietly, he watches how they are, the closeness, how she goes to his side, how he knows that Katalin is so intensely fond of her, so clearly in love with her. It's charming, but it is also an old ache. No, there is nothing that he would ask of them. It would be selfish to assume anything.

"Of course. I will arrange some equipment for Katalin while you are gone."

When they do leave, Adrian lets out an uneasy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. He can't afford to dwell, so he tries not to, leaving to head further into the castle for a brief time if only to reach his personal collection. Some of Trevor's old items, kept in suspension, locked away from the rest of the world.

Morningstar is not here, left to the Belmont family, but he does fetch Vampire Killer, scowling as it burns his fingertips, but nothing he won't heal from. A pair of daggers, and a sword that Adrian himself had made for Trevor.

It's difficult to see the equipment again, but if Katalin were to take it, he doesn't think he'd regret it. And what waste it would be if a hunter was not using them, in any case?

Adrian returns, placing the equipment down to the floor, sighing as his hands start to mend from the contact, silver and consecrated items not exactly agreeing with him. He settles into the throne with some reluctance, wrinkling his nose at the pile of dust that was once Trevisan.

"Fuck you," he mutters at the dust, blowing it away.

He's grateful. He's so very grateful. But he also- is going to have a lot of awkward explaining to do to speakers. It's not every day one shows up in front of one's not-girlfriend's family in Dracula's Fucking Demon Castle.

...it's not a wording he's ever used for the place before (he's never had reason to think about the castle, not until he found himself trapped there) but it seems correct.

"I think he's out of earshot." He says once they've walked just a little way, though it's always hard to tell what 'within earshot' is when one is talking about a vampire. "You can tell me exactly how much trouble I'm in now."

"Oh, you knew that was what I was waiting for, did you," Sophie retorts, casting him a sidelong look as they walk, like she half expects him to up and disappear again if she dares take her eyes off of him.

Still, what simmering exasperation she's been holding inside her is also the sort that's quick to burn out, and after a minute her shoulders slump as indignation is quickly replaced by softer concern. "You were trying hard to make me like him. And for him to like me. Why? Because he got rid of the vampire who took you? Or because you think there is something to this business of — of us being people he remembers from centuries ago?"

It's a thought that leaves her broody, and she can't precisely explain why. "You know he's not telling the truth, when he says he wants nothing from us."

"I don't know how to make people not-sad." He admits, sighing.

"He said he was going to go to sleep, once this was done. Forever, if he was allowed. And- I hate it. I fucking hate it so, so much." And he still can't quite place his finger on why, other than the obvious. "It's not fair. He woke up just because I needed him, and then he's going away again. And I can't do anything about it. I don't understand enough about this shit to believe it or doubt it, but I know that you're- good at making people want to be alive. I thought you could help, even if I can't."

"...You...want me to make him want to be alive," she repeats slowly, like she's testing every word, because it's such a Treffy thing to say. To meet someone, and immediately care so much about them (if not individually, then at least about their position, their circumstances — he cares so much about the Speakers even when they're taken as a whole instead of individuals), and to want to help them so badly...

No, it's not as though it comes as any surprise. It's one of the things that's endearing about him, frankly. Endearing, and a little stupid. But mostly endearing.

It's likewise a very Treffy thing, to realize his limitations and clumsily but earnestly grasp for a workaround to them. It's far from the first time he's done this in particular (how many times had she heard that, when they were younger? I can't, but you can! Please, Sophie?), and she's...far from immune to it. He makes himself a bridge like this, the go-between, and that makes it easy. She doesn't have to have feelings about saving the half-vampire Adrian so long as Treffy does; she doesn't even have to worry about wanting it one way or another, because Treffy can just want it enough for the both of them.

It's what she thinks about, the whole walk down to the Speaker camp, through all of the explanations and excuses and apologies. It's what she thinks about as she finds Treffy a change of clothes regardless of whether he thinks he needs them, and some dried plums for the both of them. It's what she thinks about as she chews on her snack and sucks the flavor off her fingers as they make their way back up to the castle, and by the time they've made it the whole way, she's —

Well. She's the Speaker magician of the two of them, but that doesn't mean Treffy doesn't have a certain magic of his own, that he never seems to fail at working over her.

When they arrive back, she knocks on the door for good measure, whether Adrian already has it open in anticipation of them or not. It just seems like the right thing to do, knocking. And either way, it'll let him know they're back.

"Come in," Adrian's voice calls out, soft and sure. "You know you are welcome, both of you. It is your house as much as it is mine."

At his seat, Adrian has not moved, watching the two familiar figures at the door. It reminds him of one of the times Sypha and Trevor had returned to him. Immediately bickering with Trevor fondly, Sypha throwing herself into his arms--

But it is but a memory. One of many that makes him yearn to bury himself into his coffin and let the world go by, but he had promised. He will live, for as long as they do. He is fond of Katalin and he likes how fierce Sophie is. He can manage a few decades, probably.

"I've left out equipment for you, Katalin. It is yours." A tired smile. "Try not to lose it."

reincarnation vampire lord | miraclewhip

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)