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[whipitout]

You know what to do:
Here be the place for Overflow, PSL's, Randomness, or General Shenanigans.
Hit me with all the things!

Comments

moving the action over here c:

[nimbi]

[ It's not the first time she's had to deal with a drunk Trevor Belmont, but since she knows that he's actually already gotten himself hurt Ororo is of a slightly milder disposition than she might have otherwise been finding him face down under a tree.

That being said, her sympathy remains somewhat limited since he did very much do this to himself.

She sends an icy wind his way to alert him of her presence as she approaches, mostly because she wants to punish him a little for being such a fool. It's not often that she allows herself to be petty, but every now and then a little something slips through the cracks of her tight self-control. ]

along with the drunken garbage fire, lmao

[whipitout]

[ Drinking was his solution to boredom. And for forgetting. And Trevor Belmont experienced his fair share of both, really. More than his share, if one bothered to ask him about it. But this world was not his, thank whatever god happened to watch over it, and his sort of expertise was only required sporadically. Hence his problem.

But, at least the company was better than average, on most days.

Nevertheless, despite being face down in the mud beneath his favorite oak tree, Trevor hadn't made much of a move to rectify his current situation, because what was the point? He did manage an appropriate shiver when he felt the telltale brush of Ororo's presence; that icy wind seeming to find all the access points in his somewhat shabby tunic and prick his skin disapprovingly.

He did turn his head and grin at her, although it was somewhat of a sickly, lopsided expression, but at least he tried. ]

What a gracious savior, my lady. Impeccable timing. I was just about to make the effort myself.

[ Lies, Belmont. Such lies. ]

Re: along with the drunken garbage fire, lmao

[nimbi]

Right.

[ If she sounts disbelieving it's because she is.

She does still offering him a hand to help him pull himself upp from the ground, and if he need someone to lean on while they make their way to the mansion she will help with that too, even though he stinks. ]

[whipitout]

[ He wans't surprised by her tone; but at least she didn't set him on fire or freeze his sorry ass where he lay. Evoking sympathy by being childishly pathetic; it's worked for him for years.

But he did take her hand and although she did help haul him upright again, Trevor managed to keep a sliver of his chivalry and lumber to his feet on his own, but he didn't mind at all the offered shoulder, because the ground wasn't being too steady under his wobbling boots, damn their ass. ]

Where we going?

[ Because he wouldn't be too surprised if she just took him inside and tossed him down a well or something similar. No less than he deserved, but it'd still be nice to know what to expect. ]

[nimbi]

We need to get your injuries looked at. And then you need to take a bath.

[ Ororo is no doctor, so she'll be handing him over to Jean for a check-up. Hopefully the big oaf knows how to take a bath on his own, though she does think she might have to make sure he doesn't just wander off in search of more alcohol rather than cleaning himself up. ]

for petcromancer

[whipitout]

[ cont. from here ]

Well we'll never know now, will we? But stranger things have happened.

[ Understatement of the century, Belmont. ]

And no doubt bathes in the blood of virgins and baby goats. I've heard a few things about that bitch, all of them horrible. How'd she manage to catch you, anyway? You said you were only there for Dracula.

Re: for petcromancer

[petcromancer]

I joined up for Dracula, but there came a point when I could no longer deny he was not the man I thought he was.

Carmilla said she could end the war and what she said seemed sound. She fooled everyone into thinking she was sane, and that she was the better option of the two.

The bitch even came to my lab and pet my dog. I was so desperate for a way out that I let myself be convinced.

And then your lot blew her plans to hell, and she dragged me back to Styria in a rage. Whatever ruse of sanity she was playing at, she's lost it now. It's virgin blood baths every night.

[whipitout]

Vampires are master manipulators, and she's a woman besides. You probably didn't have a prayer in the first place. For what it's worth, probably not much, none of us took Dracula's death lightly. I still have nightmares about it. His son said he'd gone insane right after his wife was murdered. I can understand that, I guess. The suicidal genocide, not so much.

Carmilla...petted your dog. Why does that scare me more than anything else?

What do you want me to do, Hector? Send her a note demanding your release? Storm the castle and rescue you, princess style?

[petcromancer]

I don't know what I want you to do. Distract her somehow? You're the vampire killer.

...

Have you seen my dog? I left him in Dracula's castle. I don't even know if he survived.

[whipitout]

And I'm going to kill her. Make no mistake about that. But just charging into Styria hell bent and half-cocked is pretty much suicide. And I like living. At least, for now.

The little half-dead thing? I think Alucard has him, or did the last time I was there.

[idonoevil]

It has been a few weeks and some days now since Dracula died. Even now, Sypha almost can't believe they accomplished the task. That the three of them managed such a feat still boggles the mind a bit, but she's slowly getting used to the idea that this is the new order of her life.

Traveling with Trevor in their little covered wagon isn't glamorous, but neither had her life with her family. She misses them, of course, but now she feels a purpose in her life that she'd never experienced before. There are still vampires afoot, and the night hordes didn't vanish just because their master did--in fact, his demise has only made them more wild, their fury even less direct.

Killing the monsters that Dracula set upon the world earns them room and board in some places, or a handful of coin in others. In other villages, it earns them names: witch, she's heard especially often in her direction. Regardless, more people are happier to be saved than indignant that their salvation came from a Speaker mage and the excommunicated scion of the Belmont clan.

Fortunately for them, this is one of those towns, and the locals have opened a tab for the pair of them at the tavern and offered them a room at the inn. Sypha sits at the corner table with Trevor, her back to the wall so she can watch the villagers talk and dance. She's close enough to feel the heat radiating from his broad body, leaning ever so slightly in his direction.

"It's nice to see them this way, isn't it?" she asks, bumping his elbow gently with her own.

[whipitout]

At least this place served decent food and passable liquor. Although his days of drinking until he passed out right on the tavern floor had all but come to an end, thanks to the annoyingly chipper woman sitting beside him, but Trevor honestly couldn't say that he minded all that much. They'd been on the road for a little over a month, following the Speaker caravan route, but thanks to the night hordes, progress had been necessarily slow. Neither he nor Sypha were willing to leave any of Dracula's minions alive, so there'd been plenty of work in each small town and village they'd passed through.

Not that it had been all sunshine and light - Trevor's knuckles were still scraped and bruised from the last place they'd passed, his fist having knocked loose a few teeth from an overly mouthy mongrel denouncing Sypha as a witch and demanding she be burnt at the stake for her "congress with the devil". Trevor had socked the asshole before he'd even thought about it, coming very near to pummeling the bastard within an inch of his miserable life, but his companion had pulled him away, insisting that she could look after herself, and while Trevor knew that, that still didn't mean he was going to tolerate such small-minded bigotry. Particularly towards someone he...well...towards a friend.

Said friend was currently parked on the bench beside him, smiling as they watched the regulars drink and dance and make merry. Sypha jogged his elbow meaningfully - he'd learned not to hold his glass near his face or he risked a fat lip or having ale splashed all over his chin and down his chest. He followed her gaze with a cynical one of his own, eyebrow slowly arching as he took in the revelry.

"Better than seeing them running at us with cudgels and pitchforks, sure."

A beat later, Trevor unconsciously slouched down a little on the bench, hooking a nearby chair with one foot and dragging it over to prop both booted feet in it, simultaneously offering Sypha a shoulder, should she need somewhere to lean. He'd recently discovered that he really didn't mind her seemingly unintentional closeness, this habitual affection she seemed to keen to share only every chance she could. She was always a welcome warm weight, and she certainly smelled better than any of their other surroundings.

"Did you get enough supper?" Eating regularly - and food they didn't have to catch, kill, and cook themselves - was a welcome novelty.

[idonoevil]

"I did. The barkeep said he'd even pack some provisions for our trip. Bread and cheese and the like." Trevor's slouch prompted a subtle shift, Sypha leaning against him so their arms were flush, her cheek against his shoulder. Yes, this town was certainly much more accommodating than the previous one, though it warmed something in her to see how protective Trevor could become (even if he did end up taking things a bit too far).

"I also asked for medical supplies. Ointment and bandages. They said they would give what they could," she adds, gesturing minutely to Trevor's knuckles.

"The town's seneschal told me he'd heard word of other Speakers, as well. We're catching up to them. I'll be so happy to see my grandfather again." Sypha's smile is warm when she thinks of her family, but she has no plans of rejoining them on the long road. For now, at least, her place is with Trevor.

[whipitout]

The news earned a mildly surprised grunt. "Nice of him." Hopefully the man would throw in some dried meat, or some such. With the night hordes ravaging at will, game was scarce to come by, even for a skilled hunter and a Speaker-Magician. They bought what they could, but coin only stretched so far, particularly with the worst of winter still on its way.

Seeing her gesture at his knuckles earned another grunt, this one a little lower and more peeved, given into the depths of his almost-empty ale stein. A glower followed as he thought about that ignorant miscreant, but other than ride back to that village and skewer the hothead, there really wasn't much else for him to do about it. Other than brood whenever his thoughts chanced to turn back that direction. "Save them," he advised her, unobtrusively lifting the elbow attached to the shoulder upon which she was leaning, so that she might surreptitiously link her arm with his. "I've endured worse than bloody knuckles, and the bastard had it coming."

Thankfully, the folks in this little town had been unhesitatingly grateful for the assistance, nearly falling all over themselves when Sypha announced that they need not fear the vampires' evil minions any longer. Still, it was good to hear that they were making ground on their quarry; he knew Sypha missed her grandfather and the rest of her clan.

"He'll be happy to see you, too." Trevor didn't doubt it. The old man had been willing to risk persecution and worse for his grandchild. A corner of the hunter's mouth quirked with his skewed humor. "Might not let you leave again any time soon, when we do catch up with them, eh?"

[idonoevil]

Sypha's arm looped through the crook of Trevor's elbow, and she sighed once. There was no point in telling him again that beating the man to a pulp hadn't been necessary. He could be so stubborn sometimes--she might as well have been arguing with a brick wall. She had cleaned his cuts the best she could, but she wasn't satisfied.

"I wonder if the Belmont keep has books of healing magic. When we go back, we should look and see if we can find any." Being able to use a spell to heal his cuts and bruises would certainly be convenient.

The thought that her grandfather might try and keep her from leaving their caravan once they find them makes Sypha chuckle and shake her head. "My grandfather knows better. A Speaker's duty is to help people, and there is no better way for me to do that than by staying with you." She looked up at him then, her blue eyes limned with gold in the lantern light of the tavern. "As if you could be rid of me so easily."

for cryptsleeper

[whipitout]

[ cont. from here ]

[ To say that Trevor Belmont was bored would be a gruesome understatement. They'd been on the road for a month since Braila, traveling the countryside and eradicating the Night Hordes where they'd found them. It provided coin, room and board, but also a chance for Sypha to do her "Speaker Thing", as Trevor dubbed it, collecting stories and folklore from every single community they passed. Which was fine, Trevor told himself, but once the killing was done, there was truly little for him to do, other than sit around cleaning his weapons or standing nearby looking menacing.

So when he received Alucard's little communique that afternoon, he'd been more than eager to leave a message for his little Speaker-Magician to meet him later, once she was done doing her thing, and head out to the specified destination with almost as much gusto as he portrayed whenever there was violence to be done. Because, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, he had missed the broody, morose dhamphir. Goddamnit.

But words weren't ever easy between the two, so Trevor pocketed his little device and flopped down on a bale of hay with an uncorked ale bottle, lounging in the shade of the barn while he waited. Alucard had said a couple of hours, which meant he had plenty of time to let his mind wander, recall the feel of that cool skin under his own rough hands, and the delicious sensation of those sharp fangs parting his flesh. Trevor took another long pull from the bottle, loosening the ties of his tunic a little more.

Never one to shy away from a debauch, be it real or imaginary, the Belmont closed his eyes and grinned to himself, mind gleefully frolicking in the gutter with both of his wonderful lovers, almost quivering at finally being able to have them to himself in just a few hours. Although Sypha would be another several hours at her work, but Trevor was certain that he and the dhamphir would be able to entertain themselves until she arrived. ]

Re: for cryptsleeper

[cryptsleeper]

[The castle was hard, during the summer months. Oh yes, it meant many hours of daylight to say, work on getting a new staircase in the Hold, but it also meant many hours to realize how empty the place was without the other two. Work could only distract for so long, even if the list of what was left to do seemed to be at least two lifetime's worth of tasks.

So it was heat and exhaustion and real emotion that had forced honestly out of the vampire. He was getting better with trying to verbalize emotions (Sypha still assessed him as a very long way to go) but this? This felt like some kind of progress.

But it also felt like a very long trip the more he walked (and ran, and walked and ran as a wolf, repeat). Taking too long, even though an hour had passed and he was more than halfway there. Then it was two, and he was sure that the barn in the distance was the right place. It was better to approach as a wolf though, for the all too sensitive nose meant he could pick out the right scents. Far easier to do that than to show up randomly and ask around for a Belmont.

He draws closer, and then closer still, and there it is. Fresh wine and natural Belmont musk. Right place if he's ever smelled it, and soon there's no wolf stalking through the tall grasses. It is Alucard, rising out of the summer wheat, long coat shed for the duration of the high, hot months in Wallachia.

If he's breathless, it's because running for two hours will do that.]

That too longer than I expected. Ran into quite a few downed trees on my way here.

[whipitout]

[ The warmth of the lazy afternoon sun and the smooth bulberry wine had worked their magic and sent Trevor off into a light doze, but not so deep that he wouldn't leap to his feet should anything untoward rustle too close nearby. But a nap was nice, particularly since Sypha had kept him up half the night the previous evening, with her relentless teasing, sweet affection, and surprisingly turbulent passions, once those fires finally caught and were appropriately fanned.

He came awake rather suddenly, blinking drowsiness away, and realized that he'd snoozed an hour, perhaps a half more, and a brief perusal revealed the wine bottle lying on the hay beside his bale, half empty and resting on its side, a few swallows chirping on the edge of the loft above, and the sweet scent of summer hay curing in the sunshine.

Perhaps ten minutes later - Trevor hadn't bothered to rise from his lounge, but folded his arms behind his head and idly watched the few clouds drift by - there came a telltale rustle and Trevor spied an achingly familiar figure seemingly appear out of the tall wheat. A lazy smile curved his lips; apparently the vampire had been serious. His expression didn't change as Alucard approached, and Trevor hadn't the first ounce of shame in letting blue eyes roam over the dhamphir, sliding from head to heel. ]

Unsurprising, given how many times the Castle bounced all over this part of the countryside. [ It was a sly, lazy drawl. ] You made good time, though. I'm...impressed.

[cryptsleeper]

I was a wolf for much of it. Better equipped for moving through this kind of countryside.

[Alucard wasn't breathless. He didn't get breathless, unless it was after something like fighting Dracula. He simply had his shoulders shrugged down a little further, and his tunic clung to his chest just a little more than it ought to due to all the sweat coming off it.

There was space and then some on the bale beside Trevor, and Alucard helped himself to it. It was with a great and graceful flop, bouncing back up for a moment before his back was flush with the side of the barn and everything else wonderfully comfortable.

Comfortable. There was a word to be contemplated, and with that thought, Alucard closed his eyes and exhaled.]

She still doesn't know?

[whipitout]

Mmm. Fair point.

[ Trevor shifted slightly as Alucard flopped down, and bit back a snort of laughter at the vampire's unusual inelegance. It was nice to see, however, the vampire not holding himself so stiff and aloof. ]

Nope. She'll be teaching, studying, singing, that sort of thing, for another few hours, usually until about suppertime. [ Trevor did manage to refrain from rolling his eyes with an exasperated sigh, but it was Sypha's thing, so he didn't mind as much as he made out.

He gave a glance over at his companion, and both an eyebrow and the corner of his lip lifted. ]

You look...comfortable.

tfln - for cryptsleeper (Alucard)

[whipitout]

[ cont. from here ]

It's. It's been a long week for everyone, Alucard. I'll tell you all about it, but not over this thing.

Sypha just told me we're about 20 miles outside of Lindenfeld. Some little village that looks like all the rest of them. From here, the Hold's probably...a couple of days hard traveling.

Will you wait for me?

[ And for Sypha - it's been a shitty month for all three of them, apparently. ]

Re: tfln - for cryptsleeper (Alucard)

[cryptsleeper]

A few days. A week if there's bad weather in the air, which I suspect may be the case. Wallachia probably has one last snow storm left in it.

I'll wait. But I don't know how long you'll want to linger.

[whipitout]

God shits in our dinner once again. It's getting to be a habit, I swear. But don't worry, we'll make it. We could all use a breather, after this one.

Shut up with that talk. You know I'll bloody well linger as long as it takes. I don't like leaving you there alone in this sort of mindset, Alucard.

[cryptsleeper]

I'll speak as I like, Belmont. I am not pleasant company at the moment, and if Sypha is in such a place emotionally I don't know what good being around me will do.

for parricidious

[whipitout]

from here.

Thank God no one was actually around to witness this steamy little tête-à-tête between the hunter and the dhampir; not that Trevor cared, exactly, but there were kids gallivanting about, and some things definitely required age restrictions. Greedily sucking Alucard's tongue and rutting the blond against the kitchen doorway were definitely two of those things.

Didn't stop him from doing either, though.

Because hearing his lover's quiet little gasps, feeling those sharp nails scrape over his skin, and feeling that hard body soften just a bit - for him - was magnificent. A sly smirk curved kiss-flushed lips when Trevor finally lifted his head, cobalt eyes gone crystalline to see Alucard's own gaze darkened with unfeigned desire and heat. That stern mouth was slack, too, shining with wetness from their torrid kisses, and Belmont couldn't swallow an approving rumble when the dhampir licked at his own lips, unable to stop his own tongue from emerging sinuously with its counterpart.

Another set of wet heated kisses followed, one of Trevor's thighs firmly entrenched between Alucard's legs, insistently rubbing against him, wanting more. But damn the need for breath, since it forced Trevor up again, this time panting a little harshly as he smirked at his captive, flushed and gorgeous in his trap.

"...what?"